Cigarette Burns
by dianaameade2
Summary: Name: Clary Fray. Age: Seventeen. Reason for transfer:../ Clary Fray is a seventeen year old girl, stuck in a spiral of bad habits. A move to New York, her mother's constant absence and a new school leaves her reeling, and now she is stuck keeping secrets once again whilst growing closer to the happiest girl she's ever met, and the most volatile boy she wishes she hadn't. AU/AH/M/T
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

 **A/N: Wow this is like my third account, don't know what I do wrong but ff keeps locking me out. Check out 'dianaameade' for my earliest stories, 'rosesforwriting' if you like that, and follow if you like this story. Probably won't continue with 'From the Mouth of a Corpse' because my two week twilight revival seems to have ended, and i have no inspiration left. Also this has been a tragic year, so my writing is angstier than ever. PS, this is probs awful and I really need a beta. Read and review, and enjoy.**

This was so like home.

The rain, the grey emptiness in the clouds, the way a constant chill seemed to seep in through windows and settle in your bones. And Clary loved it. She had only been in New York for two weeks, but already the small apartment her mother was renting had been furnished with the duo's collective belongings; Clary had claimed the smallest room, but her wooden framed bed and framed photos almost swept away the musty smell and damp stained corners, and she had set up her desk the previous evening. Her mother's room was down the hall, and it held more art equipment than it did clothes. The empty house was starting to fill, starting to feel like home. The pair were good at that. The last place they had lived in was in Washington, so the rain didn't bother her, and she was glad to be somewhere with a little bit more noise.

Today Clary would be starting at another new school, for the fifth time since she was ten. Again she would be the new girl, the subject of all conversations for fifteen minutes before people realised she wasn't all that interesting and left her alone. She doubted anyone at her last school even noticed she had left. But that was okay.

Sitting upright in her bed, she kicked off her covers and sucked in a deep, calming breath as she swung her legs off of the bed and onto the floor. Her mom would knock on her door soon, telling her to get up and get going, offering her juice and toast before whisking out the door in a whirl of green waterproof and red hair, off to her job at a book store. And Clary would accept the juice, skip the toast and head off for school early so as to get her bearings in the new neighbourhood.

As if on cue, her mother knocked on the door, peering her head through and smiling at her daughter's position on the edge of her bed.

"Clary honey, time to get up! I've left you some money on the counter if you need it, but I've got to get off early! Luke wants me to open up."

Clary rolled her eyes playfully at her mother's excitement, and rose from her bed to kiss her mom on the cheek.

"Okay, I'll see you later tonight then?" She questioned, knowing full well that she was most likely going to be asleep by the time her mother got home, considering she started her second job at an all hours diner that evening. Her mom cupped her cheek, smiling sincerely, and replied-

"Hopefully, I'll call and let you know."

With that she turned and left the room, and Clary counted the seconds between her mother's departure and the slam of the door before making her way across the hall to the shower.

Half an hour later she was pulling on a rain coat, grabbing her keys and money from the counter and heading out the door. Her neighbour, an elderly black woman wearing a silky blue dressing gown who Clary was yet to be introduced to, was entering her apartment with her mail as Clary left, and she smiled politely before rushing down the stairs, and within seconds she was pushing open the heavy doors to her apartment building and heading out into the rain.

…

It took her just over twenty minutes to find the school and thankfully the grounds were still moderately empty. The hole in her sneakers had left her toes slightly damp, and Clary was ready to find a quiet corner of the library to hide in and warm up before school started. She was arriving a few weeks late into the school year, so she wanted to get to the office fast to pick up her timetable and, hopefully, map of the halls.

Even from the outside she could tell the school was big, and as she entered the building, shrugging off her wet coat, she was grateful to the sign that pointed her in the direction of the front desk. The halls were eerily quiet, the kind of quiet that you only find in schools when the pupils aren't around, and Clary put on her bravest face as she approached the middle aged woman that sat at the front desk.

The woman glanced up at her as she approached, and raised her eyebrows at seeing a student in so early.  
"Hi, I'm Clary Fray. I thought I'd come in early to pick up my timetable."  
The woman behind the desk gave her a blank look.

"I'm new?" Clary elaborated, and the woman laughed and began tapping on her keyboard.

"Oh of course! I wasn't sure why you were asking for a minute… let's see, Fray. Ah yes! Here we are, I'll just print that for you. You've got a map and a timetable here, and the name of your guide. You'll be in their homeroom, so you won't be alone."

Clary was glad the woman's chatter filled the empty halls, and waited patiently for her to get her papers. The thought of having a guide around the school made her anxious though; people in school liked to talk. They liked to ask questions, and Clary always felt bad when she couldn't answer.

The woman emerged from the back office, clutching a few pieces of paper and a locker key.

"There you go; your locker number and combo are on this post it, and if you need any help, just come find me!"

Clary smiled at the lady who had already turned back to her work, and stuffed her papers into her back pack as she walked along the corridor, not paying attention to where she was going. She kept her map clutched in hand and glanced at it for the first time, seeing that the hallway she had taken was leading to the library; lucky pick.

When she made it to the library she noticed it wasn't large, and there was no librarian, so she headed to the back corner and sat down, pulling her hair out of its ponytail so it could dry, and waited for the day to start.

…

She nearly missed homeroom. If the bell hadn't been loud enough to wake her, she would have slept right through it. Luckily it was, and in moments she was on her feet running out of the library, ignoring the startled glances of the people who had filed into the library as she slept.

She pulled the crumpled map from her pocket, and dragged her timetable from her bag, all whilst moving wildly through the throng of students. She was just adjusting her bag back onto her back when she collided with someone, being thrown away from them with so much force that she accidentally smacked into someone else before hitting the floor.

Pain oozed through her right shoulder and she groaned, scrambling to pick up her paper, when a loud voice rang out.

"Watch where you're fucking going next time!"

Clary felt sick to her stomach, and glanced up to lock eyes with a very tall boy, looming over her with angry, amber coloured eyes. She mumbled an apology, dragging herself to her feet, but next time she looked he was gone.

Trying her best to avoid the sniggers and stares of her classmates, Clary got her bearings and ran to her homeroom, entering just as the late bell rang out. The room was typical, full of single desks in uniform rows, and only around half were full. The teacher, an older man with white hair and a scowl looked up as she entered.

"Name." He grunted, and Clary replied in a small voice. He typed something into his laptop and grunted again. "New: Clarissa Fray, yes?"

Clary flinched slightly at her full name but nodded, and he typed something else in.

"Your guide is Isabelle- Isabelle Lightwood!" At this last sentence he raised his voice, and the class of fifteen students looked up, and Clary blushed hard. Up until now they hadn't noticed, but now she was on display like meat at the butcher's counter.

"Yes?" The reply forced Clary to look up, and she met eyes with a girl who could only be described as the most stunning junior in history; she had long dark hair that was loose, and pin straight. Her eyes were dark brown, but surrounded by smoky make up that made her gaze hard and imploring, and her pale skin reflect like fine porcelain.

"You'll be Miss Fray's guide, make her welcome."

Clary looked back to the girl nervously, expecting an eye roll or for her to laugh under her breath with the sneering Asian girl she sat beside. Instead, she just beamed a bright smile, and Clary felt some of her nausea dissipate.

"Cool! You can come sit over here with us, home room's over in a minute any way!"

Clary glanced at the teacher, who nodded, before making her way to sit beside Isabelle.

"Hey, I'm Isabelle but you can call me Izzy." She said the second Clary was situated, and leant over so she was talking only to Clary. "What was your name again?"

Clary smiled in spite of herself, wanting so badly to warm to this girl.

"Clary." She said quietly, and the girl grinned.

"Cla-ry." She tested. "That's so pretty!" She opened her mouth to say something else, but as she did the shrill bell rang out, and Clary jumped in her seat. Izzy laughed.

"Hey, don't worry about it. The damn thing scares everyone, but you get used to it."

She rose to her feet and Clary followed suit, once again pulling her timetable out of her pocket.

"See you later, Aline!" Isabelle shouted to the girl who was sat beside her, then turned back to Clary.

"Ooh, let's take a look." She said, plucking the paper from Clary's hands and leading the way from the room. Her dark eyes skimmed the page quickly, and Clary focused on following closely beside her through the halls so as not to bump anyone again. "Knew it, we have all the same classes. Usually that's how they choose your guide. We have English first, I'll introduce you to the teacher, she's super nice…"

And that's how her first few periods went. Clary followed Isabelle to each lesson and they would sit together. As they walked through the halls, and entered each room, Clary could tell Isabelle was popular from the way people would smile and wave, stop her in the hall to share gossip before running to class, or talking to her in class. But she stuck with Clary, and she was so grateful.

And for the first time, she asked no awkward questions of Clary. No 'where are you from,' or 'why did you move' kind of questions. Izzy was too fast pace for that.

As they entered English, it was 'have you read this before?', which lead to the pair having a long conversation about books- Clary's favourite was Wuthering Heights. Izzy's was The Bell Jar.

During their work in History she had asked Clary if her hair was naturally 'that colour'. She had laughed at the question, and surprised herself.

By lunch time Clary was feeling so at ease it almost felt as if it wasn't her first day, and felt bad for thinking Isabelle superficial when she was so lovely. But her good mood vanished when she entered the lunch hall and was confronted with the fact that she would be sitting alone again.

Isabelle was still chatting about how the front seats of Mr Wayland's class should be labelled as the splash zone, and didn't notice that Clary had stopped following her. When she did she turned around again, looking for her. Clary was still stood by the cafeteria door, arms wrapped around her small torso, looking lost. She caught Isabelle's eyes, and a surprised look crossed her freckled face. Izzy laughed.

"Hurry up, would you? Did you think I was going to leave you to sit by yourself?" She laughed. Clary grinned at that and sped to catch up. Isabelle linked their arms- which was a hard feat considering Clary was five foot nothing, and led her to their lunch table.

"I'll introduce you to the guys when they get here, some of them you'd of seen, but some are seniors so aren't in our classes. Oh! And you can meet my brother as well, I bet he'll like you."

Clary blushed hard, and watched as Izzy pulled a bag of lunch from her hand bag.

"How come you're so nice to me?" Clary blurted out. Isabelle looked startled, then laughed.

"Is there a reason I shouldn't be nice?" She responded, amused. Clary just shrugged.

"I don't know, you just don't seem like the type." She blanched. "Wait! That's not what I mean, oh this all came out wrong. I just mean I'm not exactly the most interesting…" She trailed off. Isabelle was laughing too hard to hear anything else anyway, and Clary decided to just laugh as well.

Two boys sat at the table whilst they were laughing, quickly followed by a girl and another boy.

"What's so funny?" The lanky ,brown haired boy with too big glasses asked first, looking from Clary to Isabelle with mild concern. "and who's this?" He finished.

Isabelle calmed down and wiped her eyes, and Clary tried to suppress the feeling of anxiety that was bubbling up within her at all of the new faces. Isabelle gulped down some water, then turned to her group.

"Everyone, this is Clary. She's new and in my homeroom, and she's super nice so be kind! And Clary, this is everyone." Isabelle gestured as she spoke.

"This is Maia," She pointed to the girl with the dark skin and braided hair, "that's Simon," She pointed to the boy with the glasses, "and that's my brother Alec, and his boyfriend Magnus." She pointed at the final two. Clary could easily tell which was which; Alec had the same high cheek bones as his sister, except his eyes were a sharp blue, as opposed to softer brown. And Magnus was a sight, with sharp featured defined by colourful make up, and eyes a hazy mix of brown and yellow. He grinned a cat's grin, and Clary smiled shyly back.

And after that everyone resumed their conversations. The boy with glasses, Simon asked her how she was liking the school so far, and they talked for the lunch period, Isabella and Maia arranging a mall trip and discussing what had already happened so far in the year.

It was about half way through lunch when two new people approached the table. One was a broad shouldered boy with curly brown hair, and as Clary glanced at him she noticed how attractive he was. He sat down beside Maia and swung his arm around her, and she kissed his cheek.

"What's up- hey, newbie! You bumped into me earlier- I'm Jordan." He was grinning widely, but Clary wanted the ground to swallow her up. "That's Jace, he's the dick that shouted at you."

With that comment Jordan turned to talk to Maia again, and Clay looked up to see 'Jace' standing beside Alec, a hard look on his face. The two boys were muttering to one another, and as she looked his hard eyes flicked to her. A jolt ran through her, and Clary was shocked by his looks. He was tall, with golden blond hair that shone despite the lack of sun. His eyes were a crazy amber colour, and his skin was tan and smooth. Clary itched to paint him, and wondered if everyone in New York was abnormally attractive, whilst she was a dwarf in human clothing. He noticed her watching, and his mouth turned up in a sneer.

"Maybe I wouldn't shout if the damn midget could watch where she was going." He said lowly, his voice melodious even when he was berating her. Her heart sank, and he turned to walk away. "I'm gonna go find Kaelie; see you at home." This parting phrase was aimed at Alec, and with a final glare he sauntered away from the table. Isabelle scoffed into her sandwich, and Clary gave her a curios look.

"I hate Kaelie. She is a grade-A bitch. Don't even mind him; that's Jace, my other brother. He's a senior and a total dick- don't let him get to you. So he shouted at you?" Isabelle asked. Clary nodded and explained the mornings situation. Everyone was listening, and she tried hard to not trip over her words.

"Yeah, and it wasn't her fault or anything, Jace is just having one of his days, you know?" Jordan added as she finished, and everyone nodded. Isabelle clapped her hands free of crumbs.

"Well, at least you won't get lost any more- just come find us whenever, you're welcome in our group." She said. Clary smiled softly, but in her heart she knew full well she would do her best not to depend on these people, no matter how nice.

The bell for class rang then, and the day went on. Before she knew it, Clary was waving good bye to Isabelle at the end of the day.

"Are you sure you don't need a ride?" Isabelle asked, as the pair walked to Isabelle's spot in the parking lot. Clary glanced behind Isabelle and saw Alec approaching. She shook her head; not only would it freak her out, but the thought of these nice, obviously rich people seeing her dumpy neighbourhood made her feel sick.

"No I'm good, I know the way now. I'll see you tomorrow." Isabelle smiled, turning to unlock her car and Clary began to walk away, but turned back as Izzy opened her door. "And Izzy?" She said. Isabelle looked up. "Thanks for everything today." She waved once more, and headed out of the gates before she could reply.

Clary ate cereal for dinner, did her homework and waited for her mother to come home. It was eleven when she gave up waiting, and clambered into bed instead, setting her alarm.

She only had one nightmare that night.

…..

The next week passed uneventfully, each day the same as before. On Tuesday Clary had tried to sit alone in the library at lunch, but fate intervened and Simon spotted her, and her excuse of her taking out a book led to her bag being one book heavier, Simon taking it upon himself to sit next to her at every lunch, and her position at Isabelle's lunch table cemented. She didn't try avoiding them again; and she didn't really want to.

It was Friday when things took a turn, as they always tended to do, because Friday was PhysEd day. Isabelle told her to bring a tank top and sports leggings, as that's what the teachers set for uniform, and what most other girls wore, but the thought of not being in her jeans and sweaters wasn't fun, and the thought of changing in a school locker room was even less fun. The last school she had been to didn't care much about gym class, and Clary had managed to avoid going to all of them. But she had made the mistake of making friends, and so after lunch on Friday Isabelle and Maia accompanied Clary from the cafeteria, to her locker, to the locker room. She could feel anxiety building up, and she wasn't paying attention to the two girls' conversation. As they pushed through the doors, she panicked.

"I'm gonna change in the bathroom…" Clary blurted out, and laughed breathily at the strange look Maia and Izzy gave her. "I'm a bit… shy! Yeah, I'm kind of shy so, I'll meet you in there."

The two girls nodded, smiling and heading over to get lockers, promising to save Clary one, and Clary ran into a stall, locking the door. She changed as quickly as she could, pulling on leggings and a sports bra and a tank top. But before she unlocked the stall, she pushed her arms into a hoodie from her bag and zipped it up. Breathing a sigh of relief, she exited the stall and located Maia and Izzy, grinning and stuffing her bag into a locker. Her two friends were tying their hair up, and Isabelle dragged Clary over to braid her hair before the three of them entered the gym.

The teacher hadn't arrived yet, but someone had put up the volleyball nets and people were already playing.

"Ooh, Simon and Eric have their own net, lets hang with them so we can group together!" Isabelle said, and Clary followed her.

"Hey, Izzy!" Simon greeted as they approached. "And hi, Clary." He added, his warm eyes meeting her own. She blushed and said hello, and all of a sudden a ball came her way. She spun to face the boy beside Simon, Eric, who thought it would be funny to throw it at the newbie, and caught it before it hit her face.

"Whoops." Eric laughed, and Simon whacked him in the shoulder.

"To me Clary!" Isabelle yelled from about two feet away from her, and Clary obliged. Izzy then threw it to Maia, who had been busy laughing at a blonde girl who had been hit in the head, and she herself got hit square in the face. Everyone doubled over laughing at her expressions, but she grinned and just threw it back to Clary.

She wasn't terrible at sports, she wasn't great either, but throwing the ball to each other and laughing when someone got caught off guard was fun. And she was enjoying gym class, a thought which she grinned at.

And then it all went wrong.

A whistle rang out, and everyone on the hall turned to see the gym teacher enter the hall. The students in the gym walked over to her, dropping the volleyballs and waiting for instruction.

"Okay guys, teams of six, same rules as last week, lets tournament. Maia, could you grab an extra net of balls? And Cat, could you grab me my role sheet, its over there." The teacher had seemed nice enough, her voice loud but clear and friendly. Then.

"Oh, you?" She pointed a finger at Clary. "I'm guessing you're new; no hoodies please, against regulations. Take it off." Clary blanched.

"Crap, forgot that rule, sorry Clary I didn't mean to get you in trouble." Isabelle reprimanded herself. The teacher watched Clary, an eyebrow raised.

"C'mon, girl, take it off! Don't be rude, it's hot enough in here anyway." The teacher continued, her hands on her hips. Clary wet her lips with her tongue.

"I… I can't." She whispered, her throat dry. The teacher didn't hear, but her peers did, and some laughed. A blonde girl, who was wearing tight shorts and a bright blue tank top sneered.

"Oh, don't tell me. Secret cutter. Great, now we all get to have the Lifetime lecture on anti-bullying again." The blonde scoffed, and all of a sudden laughter erupted around her. She couldn't breathe; Clary looked around, at people's laughing faces, at Izzy's worried glance, at the teacher's glare.

And she ran.

Pushing past the people beside her she took off out of the gym, exiting the building and being hit in the face by cool autumn air. Her face was so hot she knew it must be burning red, and she felt so humiliated she couldn't breathe. She kept running; she was behind, and she was close to the bleachers now. Slowing down she entered the underneath of the bleachers, breathing heavy, trying to slow her heart beat.

"What is your issue, midget?"

Clary gasped and turned around, hair flying, coming face to face with Jace. She hadn't seen him all week, and after the snide comment at lunch on her first day she was glad. But here he was, under the bleachers, smoking and glaring at her with a scrutiny she didn't understand. He had on the same type of dark jeans, a dark top, and a heavy jacket.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, placing her hands on her thighs, trying to calm herself. He took a long drag and blew it out, and Clary glared at him.

"What are you doing here?" He repeated back, a smirk playing at his lips. He looked her in the eye, tilting his head. "No, really Red. Whenever I see you around you have this miserable look on your face- what's with that?"

Clary scoffed. How dare he? He didn't even know her, and he was so rude, so condescending.

"C'mon… bad break up? Bullied? No, I know- daddy issues." Jace took another drag, his eyes dark. She snapped.

"You know what, Jace Lightwood, just shut up. Just shut the fuck up- you don't know me! Pull that stick out of your ass and leave me the hell alone, I've had enough with blonde bimbos for today."

She turned on her heel, fuming and ready to get anywhere away from her current situation, only to feel a hand on her arm spinning her back around. Jace's face was close to hers now, too close, and she could smell the acrid smoke on his breath. His hand was tight on her arm and she shook him off, and despite the fact that she had never been this close to someone this attractive before, all she wanted to do was smack him- especially when he blew a big breath of smoke in her face. She cursed, disgusted, and he laughed mirthlessly.

"I'm not the one coming running into someone else's spot, little red." He leant in so close she could see every vein in his eye, snaking like vines toward his golden irises. "And it's Herondale."

He stepped back and retreated to lean against the back of the bleachers. Clary's brows furrowed.

"What's 'Herondale'?" She asked stupidly, trying to mock him but her voice coming out feebly. He crushed his cigarette against the wall, and Clary flinched, before looking her in the eye.

"My last name."

Clary didn't understand, but she didn't have any more time to try to understand because as she was about to ask again and embarrass herself, the blonde who had dragged her in gym came running in.

"Jace! You will not even believe what's happened, so I was in gym right-" She turned and finally noticed Clary, who was glued to the spot. She let out an unrestrained laugh, and if Jace was confused he didn't let on- he had on the same mask of features as always.

"The cutter herself! Still got that hoodie on then; what is with you? Are you like, some emo freak or something? Everyone's looking for you, and I got yelled at by the teacher thanks to you so, great going, dumbass." Clary could feel herself getting paler, and then Jace made it worse.

"Cutter?" He asked, looking from Kaelie to Clary with a bored expression… and something else… Kaelie let out another mirthless snort.

"Yeah- our coach asked her to take off the hoodie like everyone else, and she just starts stuttering and ran off." She reached into Jace's back pocket, Clary feeling like being swallowed up by the ground, and pulled out a cigarette and a lighter, lighting up and coughing with her first drag, her blue eyes watering. She glanced up and glared at Clary.

"What are you still doing here? Scram, carrot top."

With that, Clary turned and walked away.

The changing room was full when she got there, but in her mood she didn't even care anymore. It had been one of the most humiliating days, and people's stares weren't a bother compared to that. Maia poked Isabelle as Clary approached them, and Izzy ran up and hugged the small girl.

"Clary! I'm so glad you're okay, where'd you go? And, ew, no offence but you smell like smoke." Clary just laughed, so she couldn't cry, and sat down.

"I'm sorry guys. I am not good at dealing with public humiliation, it's just when that girl-"  
"Kaelie." Isabelle interrupted with gritted teeth. Clary nodded.

"When she shouted and everyone laughed, I just froze." She looked at the two of them. Most of the room was empty by now, and Maia had a strange look on her face.

"Well, are you?" She asked bluntly.

"What?" Clary replied. Maia raised a brow.

"A cutter. Do you cut yourself- if you do, I mean, no judgement…" Clary shook her head.

"I don't self -harm, I swear." She replied, sincerely. Isabelle wrapped an arm round her.

"Are you sure? Because, if you did- and needed help- we're here for you. We're friends!" Clary looked into Izzy's brown eyes, and she could almost cry. Instead she wrapped her spindly arms around Isabelle and hugged her tight.

"I'm sure, I just don't like being put on the spot. Thank you guys. I've never really had friends like you before."

She bit her tongue as soon as she said it; she had never had friends. She wasn't meant to, it was too much. But she couldn't help herself. Isabelle grinned at that, and packed up her stuff. Maia just laughed.

"Yeah, believe me- you'll never have a friend quite like Izzy."

They all laughed, and Maia and Izzy left the room to rush to class and tell their teacher that Clary would be a bit late, and Clary changed in the empty room.

With her shirt off, Clary caught a glimpse of herself in one of the mirrors- the long, thin scar running along her torso. The patches of pink, puckered flesh. She had scars, alright. And sometimes, she wished they were just self -inflicted.

…..

As the bell rang for the end of their final lesson, Isabelle was jumping.

"Okay, I have a plan- to celebrate your first week here, you can come to mine for a sleepover! My parents are never in, so it's cool, and we can watch films and have a chat and me and Maia can fill you in on all the school gossip. Oh! And we can order pizza- my treat!"

Clary looked sceptical. She wasn't the type to go anywhere except home, or to the bookstore her mom worked at. And again, the thought of taking Izzy to see her apartment when clearly it wasn't anything to write home about made her stomach twist.

"I don't know, Izzy…"

"Oh, pleaasseee!" She dragged out, pouting her full lips. Maia sniggered. "I'll even drive to yours to get your stuff, then drop you home tomorrow! C'mon, you had a bad day as well, it'll be fun!"

At this, Clary buckled. Never in her life had she been to a sleep over, and the fact that someone actually wanted her there enough that they were begging touched her. She smiled warmly.

"Okay! Okay, let me call my mom first though. One minute." Izzy and Maia high fived happily, and Clary moved to the side of the hallway to call her mom. She dialled once, with no answer. She tried again, no answer, and her heart picked up. Finally, on the third ring, her mother picked up.

"Clary!" Her mother greeted, and for a moment Clary was so flooded with relief she couldn't breathe. Her mom had been so busy recently, trying to work to keep them afloat, that the most Clary saw of her was five minutes- or less- in the morning. So it was nice to hear her cheerful.

"Hey mom, just calling to let you know I'll be staying at a friend's house tonight. My friend Izzy, she's really nice so…" She trailed off, and her mother squealed.

"Oh Clary honey, that's fine! Baby, I am so glad you've made friends so quickly, I'm so glad. Well, stay safe, call me in the morning. I guess I'll be gone when you get home, but I have tomorrow night off… so maybe we can do something."  
Clary hadn't felt this light in a long time. She smiled.

"Of course! I'd love that, oh mom, I hope we stay here. This… this feels good." She could almost feel her mother's smile in return.

"Me too, baby. Me too."

Then they said their goodbyes, and Clary ran to meet Isabelle.

"Okay, let's do it." Izzy squealed. Maia groaned, and Clary just grinned.

They walked to Izzy's car, and Maia stopped to kiss Jordan goodbye.

"Shotgun!" She called as the other two approached Izzy's Mercedes sticking out her tongue. Isabelle rolled her eyes.

"Do you mind?" She asked Clary, and Clary shrugged.

"No, course not, thank you for the lift, by the way." She slipped into the back seat, taking in the plush interior and the fresh smell from the hanging freshener. She buckled up as Izzy replied.

"No worries! Maia already had loads of stuff at mine, so just direct me and run in and grab some spare clothes and a toothbrush, then we'll head to mine."

Clary took a deep breath.

"Uh, Izzy, about my addr-" She was cut off as Isabelle's phone rang, a loud, obnoxious noise. She picked it up and answered it.

"Hello? What's that… yeah, I knew… Well I assumed you could handle it yourself, you big baby!"

Clary zoned out at this point, not wanting to intrude on what sounded like a heated discussion, but Izzy didn't seem to mind.

Maia climbed into the car at some point and just ignored Izzy, popping open the glove box and rifling through the cd's. She held one up to Clary in questioning, and she nodded absently.

"Okay, fine. But you owe me. And also, I'm having the girls over, so you're riding back seat."

She huffed and hung up the phone, turning on the ignition as Maia slid in the cd, and riotous music began playing.

"What was that about?" Maia questioned, and Izzy flipped her hair moodily. But before she could reply, the back passenger door swung open, and climbing moodily into the car was none other than Jace. He glanced at Clary, the darkness in his amber eyes still there, before facing out the other window.

"Oh." Maia replied. "I get it."

Izzy started the car and they sped out of the school, and Isabelle adjusted her mirror.

"Which way, Clary?" She asked, and Clary took a quick moment to get over herself before reeling off her address. She could almost feel Jace's eyes on the back of her head as she looked at the head rest in front of her, but Izzy made no comment, just heading off in the right direction.

"Mind you don't get your tyres stolen, Iz." Jace piped up, and Clary shot him a glare.

"Shut the hell up Jace- no one asked you to talk." Isabelle shot, and they turned down Clary's street. Her face was burning involuntarily, and she told Isabelle to stop the car.

"I'll be one minute, honestly. Thanks Izzy." Isabelle turned around and shot her a grin, and Maia turned up the music.

Clary ran up to her apartment, quicker than she ever had before so as not to have her new friends waiting in the car with Jace making sarcastic comments about her.

She practically fell into her apartment, dropping her schoolbag and grabbing a bag, stuffing in spare clothes, pyjamas and her phone charger, grabbing her tooth brush and toiletries then running out of the door again, racing down the stairs after slamming the door. `

She rushed out of the apartment building and rushed back down the street to the waiting car, pulling open the door and throwing herself in. The music flowed around her, and the three looked startled, like kids with their hands caught in the cookie jar. She blinked, willing the blush in her cheeks to go down.

"That was quick." Isabelle said, but then Maia turned the music louder and the car started moving again, and they were on there way away from Clary's home and the uncomfortable silence that seemed to fill the small space.

Clary's first glimpse of Izzy's house was from down the street. That's how big it was, and as they pulled up the huge driveway and people began getting out, she realised why seeing her apartment building must have been jarring for them. They were rich kids.

Clary was last to climb out of the car she was so mesmerised by the house; she had never seen anything like it- it was big, that was certain, but it was also bold and beautiful, and surrounded on either side by graceful trees than swung in the wind.

"This house is amazing." She muttered, and Maia grinned.

"Wait til you see inside." She replied, following Izzy up the drive. Jace had already disappeared off to wherever- Clary made a mental note to ask about him later. Then she followed the two girls inside the house, and began her first visit to the largest house she had ever been in.

….

It was nearly one in the morning by the time Izzy and Maia dropped off to sleep. Straight after getting in, Izzy had given her a quick tour around the house- or some of it- then they had ordered pizza and done some homework and gossiped. Clary had never gossiped before, and she had nothing to contribute, but she laughed when she heard about some of the things normal high schoolers did, and acted outraged at appropriate times.

She didn't eat much, as usual, and Maia and Izzy pretended not to notice, and Clary did contribute to the gossip when they began bitching about Kaelie, happily letting her friends tell her how everyone felt bad after she left, and how the teacher won't bring it up as long as she promised to not wear a hoodie again.

"Long sleeve tops are fine she said- apparently hoodies just send the wrong message." Maia said over a mouthful of pizza.

And then they watched films; Clary had never seen a tv so big, and it was just in Izzy's room like a normal thing. Halfway through their third movie the two others began to fall asleep, the three of them spread out and tangled in blankets around Izzy's huge room. Clary could hear the snores of the other two, but before she could sleep she needed to get some water, and turn off the tv which was still blaring out Love Actually. Untangling herself Clary got up and exited the room heading down the stairs and along the corridor Izzy had shown her into the kitchen. A light was still on above the fridge, and Clary quickly searched through the cupboards until she found a cup, and she filled it with cold water, gulping it down quickly to get out of the kitchen fast. She finished, carefully washing up and drying the cup and putting it back up where it belonged. Then she left the kitchen, turning to go back to Izzy's room. Well, that was the plan until something grabbed her in the dark a hand over her mouth.

Clary started so hard her head banged against the wall, and in the night time darkness she could just about make out a face, with light hair and tawny eyes. And he was frantic, his eyes not hard or glaring, but wide and panicked. He began pushing up Clary's pyjama sleeve, and Clary protested the assault by trying to bat him away, but he had her pressed against a wall, and she was tiny and frail compared to him.

"Kaelie said something… said you cut… is it true?" He was still pushing at her sleeve, running a rough, warm hand along her exposed arms, and Clary gasped- she wasn't having this. "Because I couldn't… I mean, if I made you… not again…"

He wasn't making sense, and Clary was really scared. With one last thrust she pushed him away from her. She stumbled, as did he, and Clary realised he was drunk.

"I'm sorry." He said slowly, and in the dim light Clary could only just make out his figure. Clary wrapped her arms protectively over herself, and glared at him.

"Not that you'll care in the morning, but I'm not a cutter. And I would really appreciate it if, from now on, you stay as far away from me as possible." She said, shakily, but surprisingly firm. Jace just ran a hand through his hair.

"I see myself…" He muttered. "In.. in you…" He was slurring badly now, and Clary watched, horrified, as his eyelids drooped over and he dropped to the ground. He let out a quiet snore, then was silent.

Clary stepped over to him, deciding firmly that his nonsense was not her problem, and carried on up the stairs, switching off the tv in Izzy's room and settling down.

That night, the actors in her nightmares were people from school along with her usual demons, and instead of waking up screaming, she was dead to the world, trapped in her own head.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Chap two- let me know what you would like me to do with the point of view, and scenes you'd like to see! I have an obvious angle for this story, but I 100% want to write what you want to read.**

 **Thank you for the positive feedback! Read, review, and enjoy.**

 **Trigger warning for assault.**

 **PS- Piano cover closest to the one I thought of was this one- watch?v=FEJgxHU-nRc**

Chapter 2

…..

The next morning, Clary was early to rise; her heart was beating fast, fear gripping her like a tight fist, and she took a minute to get her breathing. The slow, even breaths of the two girls sleeping near her was a comfort and after a minute her breath was back. Turning to glance at the glaring red numbers on Izzy's clock, she noticed it was still dawn- only half six. Back in Washington, her mother would wake her early on a Saturday and the two of them would go for breakfast, watching the sun rise slowly into the wet sky, sharing pancakes and drinking hot coffee at the diner her mother worked at. They hadn't had breakfast together in a long time, and the memory made her heart clench again.

Deciding to firmly bury the nostalgic feeling she rolled over, dragging the blanket back up over her and deciding to settle in to lie in like a normal teenager, and for the next few hours she drifted in and out of dreamless sleep. That is until, at exactly nine o clock, a certain lanky teenager charged into Izzy's room, flipping on the lights and drawing open the blinds. Clary started awake, clutching her blanket, and Izzy and Maia let out a series of curses.

"Simon Lewis! What did I tell you about waking me up before noon?!" Isabelle screeched, and he just laughed and thrust a steaming cup of coffee into her hand. She grumbled an unintelligible reply, but sat up and started sipping. Clary laughed at that, and accepted the coffee that Simon had retrieved from Isabelle's desk. Clary had slept on the small couch in Izzy's room whilst Maia and Izzy shared the bed; Simon was now perched at Clary's feet, and the sound of sipping was interrupted by Maia's drowsy voice.

"What are you doing here so early, nerd?" She asked, taking a long sip of coffee. Simon grinned.

"Magnus gave me a lift when he dropped Alec back- I was sick of my parents trying to strangle each other." He said it jokingly, letting out a humourless chuckle after that, but the girls could tell their was something underneath it- and by the look Izzy was giving Clary, it must happen a lot.

"Well, I'm dropping Clary off later but we were just gonna chill." Izzy said, stretching her arms and cracking her neck. "Hey- if you run downstairs and grab the play station, we can play up here!" She suggested, and he grinned, leaping to his feet and jogging Clary, nearly making her spill hot coffee down herself.

"Hey!" She yelled indignantly whilst Izzy laughed. He ignored her and raced down the stairs, and Maia shouted after him.

"And bring any game but grand theft auto! Perv." She yelled.

Kicking the blanket off her Clary glanced out the window, thinking of the previous evening when Jace had all but attacked her. Obviously he wasn't lying at the bottom of the stairs, as Simon or Alec probably would have mentioned it, but the unsettling way he had been acting left her fearful of seeing him again. And also kind of mad.

Maia let out a yawn, and Clary took a long sip of coffee. It touched her that, although the two had only known each other a week, he had remembered that she liked her coffee black. She smiled, and Izzy shot her a look.

"What's that grin for?" She asked, and Clary sighed. She didn't want to distance herself anymore. She had been doing it all her life, and it was exhausting.

"I'm just really glad I came. I've had such a nice time." She said, and Izzy smiled.

"I'm glad you came too, I can already tell we're gonna be good friends." She replied. Clary looked back out of the window, noticing the sliver of yellow sun that broke through the grey sea of clouds.

"You know, back in Washington there was barely ever any sun." She said, and the other two girls shot each other a tentative look. "But early in the morning, if you watched the sun rise, everything would be bright for a minute. Not for long, but it was like the whole world reset itself."  
She sighed wistfully, then looked down and blushed, covering her embarrassment by taking a huge sip of coffee.

"How long did you live in Washington?" Isabelle asked carefully, like a trainer approaching a skittish animal. Clary looked up, assessing the backlash of her opening up. Isabelle watched her wide, green eyes, almost like seeing cogs turning…

"About a year… we moved around a lot; but hopefully not anymore." She finished, then let out a slow breath. Just before anyone could go any further though, Simon burst back through the door, arms full of wires and games.

"Okay, who's going first!"

…

At around midday Alec and Magnus wandered into Isabelle's room to investigate the constant yelling, and found Simon and Maia violently insulting each other, clutching video game controller's, shouting curses at each other as Clary and Isabelle rolled on her bed in fits of laughter.

"Hey! No, no that is so cheating!" Simon yelled, whilst Maia cackled.

"Suck my ass Lewis, I'd like to see you beat me." She replied. Magnus let out a huge laugh and plonked himself down beside Clary (who held back her ingrained urge to flinch) and began telling her about the time that Maia and Simon had been kicked out of a video game store for swearing too aggressively.

…..

An hour and a half later Clary volunteered to help Alec grab drinks from the kitchen; she was still in her pyjamas and wasn't entirely sure on her opinion of Alec, but as they descended the stairs she was glad for someone's company. As they reached the bottom she let out a sigh of relief; Jace was no where to be seen. She followed Alec into his kitchen, and then she really felt out of her depth.

"So…" She began, and Alec looked up briefly from rummaging in the fridge. "How long have you and Magnus been together?" She blurted out, an anxiety causing the words to spill out. Alec blushed, a deep red spreading across his high cheek bones, and Clary immediately felt bad; she hated people butting into her private life.

"Oh god, sorry I just spat that out, ignore me I totally get that you-" Clary stuttered, but her rambling was cut off by Alec's laugh.

"Don't worry- honestly. I'm just not used to people asking such normal questions- I need to get used to it." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, and Clary smiled encouragingly. "We've been together about a year, but we've known each other since the beginning of high school." He said, slightly wistfully. Clary grinned, and Alec blushed again before turning to pull a series of cans from the fridge. He pushed an armful into Clary's arms and she laughed, taking them and turning to the door, walking out back to the stairs, staring at the floor so as not to drop the armful of soft drinks.

And then she bumped into Jace.

Clary gasped and jumped back, clutching at the cans to avoid dropping them. She looked down, avoiding his gaze, and pushed past him. He didn't apologise and, after Clary had sprinted up the stairs, her look over her shoulder showed that he was gone.

…

"Thank you so much Izzy! I'll see you on Monday." Clary waved at Isabelle as she exited the car and pulled her back onto her back. Isabelle waved cheerfully and Simon, who had accompanied Izzy for the ride, blew her a kiss.

Grinning Clary ran along her street, disappearing into her apartment building doors and ascending the stairs.

Isabelle and Simon watched her go from their sears in her car, and Isabelle sighed.

"I really like her Simon." She said, pulling into a parking space to turn around. Simon fiddled with the radio.

"I get what you mean- she's easy to talk to, calm." He replied. Isabelle nodded.

"Yeah, she's really calm. Like, quiet most of the time, calm. Except for yesterday in gym; Kaelie was a total ass for calling her out, but there was something about her reaction. Honestly me and Maia thought Kaelie had been right when Clary took off."

Simon looked thoughtfully out of his window.

"Smack me if I'm wrong, but there's something sad about her. Just, the way she acts sometimes, it's like she's trying to convince herself to take part in life." Simon said, and immediately regretted it. "That sounds mean.." He reconciled, but Izzy didn't look fazed.

"No, I've noticed that too. Maybe she just takes a while to warm up to people." Izzy continued. "I know Jace couldn't of helped; did I tell you what he did yesterday in the car?" She asked, and Simon shook his head. "Well I gave him a lift home because he was a dumbass and forgot Alec was going to Magnus', and while we were waiting for Clary to run into her house, he just went off on one how we shouldn't be friends with street kids." Simon's eyes widened at this. Izzy sucked her teeth angrily. "And he went on about how she's unstable or something. I told him to shut up, but Clary had made it back by then. I'm just glad he didn't say anything to her face again."

"What an asshole." Simon added, and then the two turned their attention back to the music, both sending silent angry thoughts at Jace.

…..

Clary wandered through her apartment, heart light, and flicked on the lights. No one was in, and the half drunk cup of coffee that sat on the counter told her that her mother had rushed off in the morning, hair flying and coat half on. She smiled at the thought, and dumped her bag down on the table as she headed to shower.

Their apartment was by no means large; you entered straight into the living room, where there was a small thread bare couch facing an unused tv; behind this was the kitchen which consisted of a worktop, a small dining table and four chairs. At the end of the living room there was a door- leading to her mother's bedroom, and a hallway that lead to Clary's bedroom, the bathroom, and a store cupboard. It was smaller than their apartment had been in Washington, but she liked it. It had heating, which three of their previous homes hadn't, and it was full of all her mother's old paintings which hung frameless on any walls that they would fit on.

Clary stripped off and climbed into the shower, scrubbing away the post-sleepover dirt and fatigue. She didn't have homework, as the small amount she was given they had done at Izzy's, and she wanted to relax before her mom got home.

Climbing out of the shower feeling refreshed and calm, Clary exited the bathroom and dressed quickly into jeans and a sweater, then opened her bedroom window as wide as it could go.

It was drizzling, and although the rain in New York wasn't quite as comforting as it should be, she liked the smell and the sounds; her bedroom overlooked the streets below, and she knew it wasn't the nicest neighbourhood, but high up and safe in her bedroom, she felt relaxed for the first time in a long time.

Pulling a sketchbook from under her bed, she settled down into her pillows and switched on the CD player that sat on the desk beside her bed. The only CD she had unpacked so far was a David Bowie one, and she let the nostalgic music fill the air around her as she began to draw, in a concentrated haze.

An hour later she threw the sketchbook away from her, heart beating fast, horrified at what she had drawn.

….

Her mother returned home at half eight in the evening, carrying a pizza and a large bag. Clary had been reading on the couch, and leapt up to help her mom; they deposited the stuff on the table and Jocelyn swept her daughter up into a hug.

"Clary, I feel like I haven't seen you in weeks! How are you, baby- did you have a nice week. Ooh, tell me all about your new friends."

Clary laughed into her mother's hair, hanging on for a moment, then letting go and pulling back.

"It was really good; I met the nicest girl called Isabelle- I slept over at her's last night, and she's friends with basically everyone." She laughed, and her mother's eyes shone.

"That's wonderful; look, I brought pizza! I got my first pay check today, so we splurge tonight and shop tomorrow so that you can stop living off cereal and orange juice." Her mom commented, and Clary blushed. Jocelyn felt a surge of guilt- it was her fault her daughter was so cautious, with money and in life, and if only she could protect her at all times. But she couldn't.

Clary decided to move the conversation on before either of them got upset, and moved to grab plates from the cupboards.

"What's in the bag?" She asked her mom, who had turned to discreetly wipe her eyes and was now pulling a box from the bag. Her mother grinned.

"Luke had an old DVD player he was going to throw out- I thought we could rehouse it and have a movie night!" She replied, and Clary grinned as her mom began pulling cables from the box and connecting the monster of a DVD player to their tv.

Clary couldn't help but laugh, and for a moment, the love she had for her mother was so overwhelming, she thought she would burst.

….

The next three weeks passed in a blur of excitement; Clary took on an art class at the school on Saturday's, as recommended by her art teacher. Isabelle had invited her over almost every day, and although she didn't always say yes, she had grown fond of the bubbly, black haired girl that was constantly fawning over Clary's hair, her eyes, her ability to draw- an ability she didn't realise was any good until her art class had gotten into the swing of things. She had hung out at Simon's a few times as well, and she liked him- he was easy to laugh at, and had no interest in asking Clary any questions, except if she thought that 'New Wave Zombie Massacre' was a good name for a band.

Clary had said no.

The fourth Monday of the semester, on her way to school, Clary had a skip in her step; her mom had gotten her up early and told her that Luke, her sort of boss, had offered Clary a job at a bookstore for an hour after school every day. The idea of even an extra hour with her mother made her grin and accept immediately, and getting out into the city a bit more was exciting.

Since they had been up so early, Clary was at school way before anyone else. She pushed her way through the front door and made her way toward the library; she expected that the only people in at the present time would be the office workers, and maybe the janitor, so when the soft sound of piano playing began to echo through the halls, she was shocked. And curious. Following the sound she took a turn down a hallway that she hadn't yet been down , but when the notes became clearer she realised she must be heading to a music room. And when she realised what the song was, she couldn't hold back the hot tears that spilled over her cheeks.

She hated crying. She hadn't cried in a long time- but she couldn't hold it back.

Space Oddity, a song she always skipped so as not to think about him. The tears kept flowing and she wiped at them angrily, following the noise blindly until she finally came to the source of the noise. A heavy door was in front of her, one propped open letting out the almost unbearable tune. Inside ,what Clary assumed was, the music room there was an amphitheatre of chairs, and around the edge of the 'stage' there was a series of instrument filled shelves. And at the centre was a grand piano.

The chorus built, sweet and sad and heart breakingly soulful, and all of a sudden, Clary wasn't at school anymore…

…."Jonathon!" Clary called, waking from a fitful sleep. The bears in her bed seemed ominous, and not even her night light could bring her comfort. Sliding out of bed Clary attempted to stop herself sucking her thumb, as her mother often told her not to, and headed out of her room into the one opposite. She didn't knock on the door- she knew her older brother wouldn't mind- and once inside she shut the door tight (if their father caught them out of bed, they would be in trouble).

Her brother's room was larger than her own, and Jonathon was in the corner, sat at his keyboard, playing a tune so low she could barely hear it. She trudged her way over to him, and when he heard her approaching her stopped playing and turned to pick her up, placing her on his knee. He was nine years older than her, fifteen to her six, and he was her hero. His hair was so blond it was almost white, and Clary liked to pick up her own and compare it to his.

Today there was a large, garish bruise across his face, marring one eye. Matching hers.

"My little Clary.." He whispered, hugging her carefully. "What are you doing up?" She shivered.

"I had a nightmare. About… about him…" She yawned loudly, and Jonathon stiffened up.

"I'm so sorry. I wish…" She clutched him tighter. "I swear, I'll kill him one day."

She let her eyes close, falling slowly into sleep. She patted his chest;

"Play the pretty space song, Jon. I like it…"

She heard him chuckle softly, and he shifted to play a one handed melody whilst she fell into a dreamless-

…. Clary was back in the hallway, hand clutching her heart; the music had stopped, and standing in front of her was none other than Jace.

"Jonathon." She blurted out, blinking hard whilst trying to catch her breath. A look crossed Jace's face, and his dark golden eyes, perpetually angry, were full of curiosity. He took a step toward her, looking as if he was about to speak. Clary took a step back, like an opposing magnet.

He opened her mouth, and at the thought of a confusingly aggressive comment from him Clary backed away, raising a silencing hand, and turned on her heel and sped back down the hallway, her legs carrying her in the direction of the library, putting her walls up high so that she wouldn't feel the pain threatening to kill her.

….

Everyone had noticed how quiet she was for the whole day, but no one commented out of consideration; Clary laughed half -heartedly at Izzy's jokes, she let Simon talk her ear off about a new video game, and she didn't think. By the end of the day the effort she had put in to hold herself together had exhausted her, and as she exited school at the end of the day, a brief wave to Isabelle and Maia, she felt dead on her feet.

She pulled her hood up, ignoring the chatter of the people leaving school around her, and began turning down streets blindly until she reached the small bookshop- 'Garroway's"- and walked down the side alley into the side door she had been instructed to enter through.

The shop wasn't large, but it smelled pleasantly of coffee and fresh books, and there was a back room filled with stacks of unshelved books, and a staff room with a coat rack and coffee machine and a leather couch.

She was hoping her mom would be training her; maybe she could pull her into a dark corner for a hug as soon as possible. But the moment she stepped through the door she was whisked into action by a woman called Amatis (Luke's older sister) and put to work loading boxes of books from the delivery truck to the back of the store. She barely saw her mother- only a brief wave whilst her mom was on the register, and Clary had been getting instructions from Luke.

All too soon it was time to leave; she wished she could stay, as the heavy lifting was a nice monotonous, but still hard, job that kept her mind occupied. Her mother would be staying another hour and a half, but after that Jocelyn would be heading out to her job at a late night diner. And Clary was alone once more, pulling on her coat, slinging her back pack onto her back and heading out into the street.

The book shop was around forty minutes from her home, and Clary wrapped her jacket around her tighter as a harsh wind began to whip at her face. It wasn't late, but the early autumn dusk was already falling and the skies around her was darkening rapidly.

An uncomfortable feeling ran down her spine, and Clary picked up the pace along the side walk. A car passed her, whipping more wind at her. She gasped, winded, but carried on down the street. She just wanted to be home. A glance behind her helped to ease her mind, seeing only a woman and her child and man looking at the ground as he walked, and she carried along the path that lead to home.

She crossed a street. She took a left, two rights. Then crossed again. She glanced over her shoulder a second time-

The same man, face obscured by a high collar, was walking along behind her. Was he following her.

A coursing hot flash of fear ripped through her, and on a whim Clary took a right turn she had only been down before once in broad daylight, attempting to cut off the distance between her and home.

She turned another right, picking up her pace. And before she knew it she was lost; one wrong turn while thinking about the best route to get her home quicker, and she was in an unfamiliar street. In front of her was a club, music pounding out the front despite the fact that it wasn't even five in the evening yet, and a series of empty houses. Striding past the night club she risked another glance over her shoulder.

The same guy, getting closer.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Clary took a sharp left, hoping it would take her back to the main road; no such luck. The alley was lined with garbage cans, and the thrum of the music loud. And the alley was a dead end.

Clary's stomach twisted in an uncomfortable knot, and she stalled, face to face with a brick wall. Her eye's fluttered shut; she knew what came next.

A hand- large, sweaty and strong- wrapped itself around her mouth like a vine. She immediately tensed and her eyes shot open, and as another arm wrapped itself around her torso and lifted her like a sack of flour, she kicked out, screaming inside of his palm. He grunted, muttering something unintelligible, and he lifted her to push her against the wall, tearing the backpack from her back. Her face was pressed against brick and she began to shout into her palm, as loudly as she could, kicking and wriggling against him; this just spurred him on, and on a whim he removed his hand from her mouth to slide it into her jacket. She gasped in a deep breath, and immediately began to shriek, shaking her head violently to avoid his meaty hand grabbing her again. His hands were everywhere, and he was strong. In an attempt to shut her up he banged her head against the wall, hard, then scratched at her face. She felt blood trickle into her mouth. She spat it out.

"Get the hell off of me. Help! Somebody help me!" She screamed, choking back a sob for the second time that day. Why did stuff like this always happen to her? It's like she was a magnet for tragedy.

She thought of Jonathon's face, his fifteen year old's promise of protection. And she wished with every fibre of her being that she was dead instead. The thought of her brother, the loss of her brother, something she hadn't truly felt in a long time, made her go slack in her attackers arms. She let her scream die out, and the man dug his fingers further into her jacket, ripping at her top, the button of her jeans. She let herself go numb.

And then the pressure was gone. All of a sudden the sharp, the clawing, the heat of her attacker's clammy body was gone and Clary slipped to the floor, knees weak. The pounding in her ears was unbearable, but dissipating, and the smell of blood was nauseating.

Behind her there was shouting, grunting, moaning, and the sounds became clearer as her vision focused. She was staring at the sky, the nearly black sky, and the lights flickering above her made her want to vomit. Just as her eyes began to close, a face pushed it's way into her vision, leaning over her; a familiar face.

"Jesus fucking Christ." Jace muttered, running a hand through his hair. "It just had to be you, didn't it?"

With that comment the whole world came swimming into view and Clary rolled onto her side, avoiding his gaze and pressing her hands against the cool tarmac of the alley. He stooped low to help her up, but she shook away his hands.

"Please… just, give me a minute." She whispered, and he stood to his full height, arms folded as Clary pushed herself to her feet. There was a rip in her shirt bearing her midriff, and she pulled her jacket shut to cover herself.

Breathe.

Then she turned to Jace, looking up at him.

"Thank you." She said, as clearly as she could muster. But Jace wasn't fooled; he could hear the shake in her voice, see the glaze over her eyes. And then she turned to leave, briskly walking back out of the alley.

"Hang on a minute- where the hell do you think you're going?" Jace spat, catching up to Clary in two strides and moving to stand in front of her. They were only a few paces away from the man who had attacked Clary, who was lying unconscious on the floor. Clary stared at the man, a curious feeling crossing through her chest.

"What did you do to him?" She asked, and Jace's eyebrows knitted together.

"I beat the crap out of him." He said bluntly, a hard edge to his voice. She nodded, still not looking at him.

"I need to go home…" She began, and moved to push past him. He blocked her once again, a look of anger and disbelief on his face.

"No, you need to call the cops." He said, firmly planted in front of her. She looked up, attempting to see his eyes. He was so intimidating, but a lecture was the last thing that she needed.

"Jace, I understand that you hate me, and I get that you've got a chip on your shoulder or whatever, but I really just want to go home. Besides, if we call the cops, you'll get in trouble for hurting that guy." She said as calmly as she could. He let out a mirthless snort.

There was a fire in her voice, and for the first time since he could remember, Jace yielded.

"Follow me." He said blankly, and turned to exit the alley. For a moment Clary considered running, sprinting off in any direction her legs could carry her- but her chest hurt, and her head throbbed. And she was, after all, lost.

She followed him out of the alley, along the street and into a small parking alcove; she tried to catch up but his strides were too long and purposeful as he lead her to what she assumed was his car (it was a dark colour that she couldn't distinguish in the light, but she could tell it was expensive) . He opened the passenger door for her, and the over head lamp illuminated the car. Clary looked into it warily, and an unreadable expression crossed Jace's face.

"I don't hate you; I promise. I would never do anything to hurt you." His voice was still hard, still void of obvious emotions, but it was sincere. She nodded slowly, and climbed into the car.

Jace shut the door behind her, and stalked to the other side, leaning down and stepping into the driver's seat. But instead of switching on the ignition, as Clary expected, he leant over Clary's lap. She jumped back in her seat and closed her eyes. He backed up momentarily, holding his palms to her.

"I'm just going for the glove box, okay? Is that alright?" He asked slowly. Clary opened her eyes, nodding dumbly. He reached over her again and snapped open the glove box, pulling out a first aid kit. He pushed it shut, leant back up, then opened up the kit.

He pulled out some alcohol wipes, and looked at her questioningly.

"Can I…?" He said, pointing to her temple. She didn't know what he was talking about, but a surge of trust overwhelmed her, a craving for some form of comfort. So she nodded.

He leant toward her and pushed her hair away from her face (his hands were too warm), then pressed the wipe to her face.

Clary gasped in shock at the sting of pain, squeezing her eyes shut, but he kept wiping in steady motions. She didn't like pain-she doubted anyone did- but this was getting too much for one day.

"Distract me." She hissed through her teeth, and he scrunched his brows together, pulling out a fresh wipe and moving to cheekbone. She clutched at her hands, wringing them. "Please." She reiterated.

"How did you know my real name?" He asked slowly, wiping away at the apparent grazes on her face. It was Clary's turn to furrow her brow.

"What do you mean?" She asked. He moved away briefly, but his fingers were back a moment later with a similar pang of pain.

"Jonathon. When I came out of the music room this morning, you called me by my full name."

Clary went white and Jace noticed, stilling his movements. Of course he was called Jonathon.

"I… I didn't know." She murmured. "You just… that song you were playing… it reminded me of someone." She hissed again, and opened her eyes to see Jace opening an ointment bottle, a lank look on his face. "You're really good, by the way," She said carefully, hoping to steer the subject away from the danger zone.

He looked up and they locked eyes for a moment.

"Thank you." He smoothed the ointment onto her face, then placed over a band aid. Clary watched him, and for a moment she wanted to ask him why he was near the alley, what he was doing. Why he decided to throw himself in and help her. But she didn't.

"Okay." Jace said, closing the small kit and putting it back into the glove box. "I knew you wouldn't go to the hospital, and I won't bother asking how you ended up down here, but I think 've cleaned you up okay."

Clary nodded, grateful for the lack of intrusion. Her head was still pounding, and the shaking fear that still gripped her wasn't going away. As he stuck the keys into the ignition, he also leant over and flipped the sun visor down, revealing a mirror, before starting the engine and turning up the heat.

Clary stared transfixed at the face staring back at her.

"Damn it." She muttered. Jace shot her a sideways look. She sighed, flipping the visor back up. She looked down to her palms. "I've had enough bruises for a lifetime." She said under her breath.

Jace clicked his tongue and pulled on his seat belt, gesturing for her to do the same.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" He replied, eyes fixed on the road. Clary shrugged.

"Nothing. Look- are you okay taking me home? I get it's a hassle, and you obviously aren't comfortable in my neighbourhood…"

He scoffed, cutting her off.

"Of course I'll take you home. And, look, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for acting like a douchebag, I'm sorry for pissing you off. And Jesus, I am so sorry for whatever happened on that Friday night." Clary stiffened in her seat, and Jace noticed. "I was drunk off my head, and everyone was going round school saying you were a cutter, and all I remember was needing to see you to make sure you weren't. I know its not my place, and you probably had something scathing to say. But for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Clary was shocked. Out of all the minuscule things she actually knew about Jace, she knew he was an ass. He avoided looking at her, and since that Friday he hadn't bothered to approach her, or taunt her. And an apology was not expected.

"I forgive you." She said simply, and went back to staring out of the window.

"That's it?" Jace replied. She turned to him, stomach churning.

"What's the point in being angry- I kind of owe you my life now anyway." She retorted, trying to read his ever stoic face, scanning his body language; his fists were white on the wheel.

"Don't… don't fucking say that, okay. That guy was a sicko, I wish I'd done more than bash his head in…" He said in a low voice. Clary's stomach turned again.

"The thought of him doing… I mean, doing something like that to anyone makes me… Did he, did he touch you?" He was spitting his words now.

"Jace…" Clary whispered, clutching her stomach.

"If it was anyone else, I would've done something- but Izzy!..." He continued in the same low voice.

"Jace." Clary said more urgently.

"She wouldn't forgive me if anything happened and I was near, especially to you…"

"Jace!" Clary shouted, and he stopped short, startled, shaking out of the reverie that had clutched him. He met her frantic gaze.

"Stop the car, Jace!" She wheezed.

Jace quickly pulled over and, the second they had stopped, Clary threw open her door.

And vomited across the sidewalk.

….

"Next time, call me." Isabelle was sitting on Clary's bed, Clary wrapped in a blanket beside her. After Clary had been sick there had been a cacophony of curses from Jace; he insisted in driving her home, walking her to her apartment whilst carrying her bag, then calling Isabelle to come over. He was currently sitting on Clary's couch, on the phone to the Alec. Isabelle had arrived in under ten minutes, and immediately she insisted Clary shower and put on her pyjama's before making her a hot cup of tea.

"Izzy…" She started.

"No- I get we aren't best friends yet, and I know that you get the heebie jeebies a lot and close up like a shellfish, but I care about you, okay? So call me. I could pick you up, or just talk to you while you walk. God knows I can talk enough for the both of us."

Clary laughed slightly at that, and bit her lip.

"Okay." She nodded, and Isabelle let out a sigh of relief.

"Good. I know you aren't the biggest fan of Jace either, but he'll help you if you need it. He's loyal like that."

Clary nodded again, looking at her hands. Isabelle took one in her own.

"Have you called your mom yet? Do you want me to?" She asked carefully. Clary shook her head frantically.

"No! No one tells my mom. Not one word, please- I can't have her worrying about me as well." Clary replied.

Isabelle looked shocked, but another wave of fear had gripped Clary.

"Jace! Jace, are you still here?" She moved to get up, and Isabelle stopped her. A moment later, Jace entered her room (and for once worrying about what her rich class mates would think about her shabby apartment didn't cross her mind) bringing with him his usual sense of hostility and stoic expression.

"Yes?" He asked. She looked him dead in the eye, unwavering in her determination.

"No one hears about this, okay? Not my mom, not the cops." She saw something flicker across her face. "Please, Jace. I'm begging."

He stared her down, then nodded. Clary breathed a sigh of relief, then looked to Isabelle.

"Okay, if that's what you want." Izzy responded, squeezing her hand. Then Jace spoke again.

"But what about that guy?" He said, too harshly. "You didn't call the cops, so now there's just some predator running around free to assault anyone he likes." He folded his arms across his chest, and Izzy squealed.

"Jace Herondale! You apologise right now."

"No." Clary said, something of a smile on her face. The siblings looked at each other strangely. Clary looked at her wall. "Have you ever been assaulted before?" She asked openly. Neither of the people in the room responded. "I have. And I've tried the whole 'go to the cops, tell the whole truth' thing, and it doesn't work. Ever. Not for me anyway. So, I'm sorry that I won't go to the cops. I truly believe you think it will help." She looked up, sadly. "But it won't. So let's just hope that he learned his lesson after you beat the crap out of him."

The pair in the room didn't know how to respond. Isabelle wrapped her arms around Clary, pulling her into a swift hug, but Clary was watching the blond boy over his sister's shoulder. There was something in the way he was looking at her now, something that made her uncomfortable.

"Okay -how about I cook! Yeah, that'll be fun, I'll cook you something comforting. Soup! I make a mean tomato and pumpkin soup." Isabelle chirped, attempting to lighten the mood.

"If by 'mean' you mean 'inedible'." Jace scoffed, turning to head out of the room. "I'll cook; I was already snooping through your cupboards already anyway…"

Isabelle pulled Clary to her feet, dragging her from the room, and Clary was glad for the company for once.

It was decided. If the world was going to keep throwing her curve balls, she would at least accept the advantages being thrown at her too. And right at this moment, the advantages were a raven haired beauty who wanted to discuss celebrities, and a senior who was far too hard to read. And that had to be okay by her.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A/N: It's a big one. I used to be very preoccupied with reviews; these days I feel like, as long as you want to read, I'll write. Happy reading.

...

"I told you already, I can't come!" Simon was insisting emphatically, waving his arms as Isabelle pouted. "Iz, I'm serious- my sister's birthday is that weekend and me and my mom are going to go up and see her."

Isabelle shot him a glare, then sighed, her pout still fixed.

"Well, who am I supposed to go with then?" She huffed, leaning back in her chair. Clary was next to Izzy, braiding strands of her ebony hair together absentmindedly. Since the incident on Monday the two had been inseparable; Jace had made the three of them pasta out of a can of tomatoes and some ancient herbs, and then Alec had arrived to pick up Jace and drop off a bag for Isabelle. She had refused Clary's protests and stayed the night, then used Jace's car to drop Clary off in the morning.

Two days had passed, and Isabelle had insisted on picking Clary up from the book shop every evening and the two went back to Clary's apartment where they did homework and watched movies until Isabelle went home. Then Isabelle would arrive in the morning, Maia beside her, and give Clary a lift to school. She was a hard woman to say no to, as Clary had quickly learned, and so she went with it- and it was far better than being alone.

Jace hadn't spoken to her since that night, but whenever Clary saw him she forced herself to smile, to ignore her aversion to emotion, and put her unspoken gratefulness into a single smile.

He hadn't smiled back yet. But he hadn't shouted in her face yet, either.

Coming back to reality, Clary heard Maia weigh in on the conversation.

"Well, I mean, Jordan's on the team so I suppose… this year… I could come…"

Isabelle rolled her eyes at this and huffed as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Yeah, yeah- you'll just come for half an hour, then the second the team arrives you and Jordan will be off in a corner making out."

Maia laughed at this, and Clary caught the mischievous glint in her eye.

"Very true; but be real, Izza- spending three hours hopping to songs that came out when we were thirteen and drinking warm Kopparberg someone hid in their pants does not sound fun. You hated homecoming last year!" Maia said, picking up at apple slice and waving it at Isabelle before crunching it in her mouth. Isabelle waved away the comment.

"Okay, I'll admit that the DJ last year wasn't the best." Jordan snorted at that, and Isabelle continued on. "But this year would be fun! And also, Maia, the Kopparberg was not in my pants: I wore a dress."

Everyone burst out laughing, and Clary couldn't help herself but snort. The past few days the school had been buzzing with excitement for the upcoming homecoming weekend; there were streamers in the halls, there were banners in the cafeteria, and there was a happiness that clung to the walls, washing away the grey drizzle of rain with a warm glow.

Metaphorically, that is. It was pouring with rain, and Clary's socks were permanently wet.

Isabelle's head suddenly flashed around, and the braid slipped out of Clary's fingers as the black haired girl turned to face her, brown eyes shining.

"Besides, this year Clary's coming!" She grinned, and Clary blanched. Everyone's eyes were on her; the group knew nothing of Monday's events, but they had enough experience with Clary to know that putting her on the spot was a bad idea.

"I… I mean..-" Isabelle cut her off.

"Nu uh- no excuses, it'll be Friday night, so you can stay at mine after, and the dance isn't until seven so you can't use work as an excuse!" She finished happily. Clary's eyes were wide, green assaulted by brow, and Alec and Magnus shared a look.

"Biscuit- you may as well say yes, she won't let it go." Magnus said to Clary, a smirk on his face. Clary opened her mouth, then closed it again. She looked around at the faces at the table, the anticipation.

"Okay." She whispered, her lips numb at the thought of a big room full of strangers and loud music and drunk teenagers.

Isabelle squealed and clapped her hands, and Clary let out a sigh. Discussion turned back to the football game, and Clary let the conversation carry without her. Grabbing her bag she stood up, muttering to Isabelle something about the bathroom, and headed out of the crowded cafeteria down the quieter halls, heading out the back of the school and to the same place she had ended up on the first day.

There was no one under the bleachers, and Clary ran for cover as the rain beat down upon her. There wasn't anyone around, and the monotonous sound of the rain was calming; Clary didn't want to go to a dance. She closed her eyes, rubbing her hands across her face in an attempt to clear her head.

"You and me again, huh?"

Clary jumped out of her skin and looked up to find none other than Jace Herondale, lighting a cigarette, perched against a wall opposite her. Clary put a hand to her heart, feeling the erratic thrum through the fabric of her sweater.

"Are you following me, Jace?" She breathed out, staring him in the eye. His usual hardness was there, and he watched her with an amused expression as he took a drag from his cigarette.

"Most definitely." He replied, swooping forward and dropping himself down beside her. Clary flinched, and he ignored it. "What are you doing out here then?" He asked. Clary could feel the warmth of his body, the scent of leather and cigarettes. She crossed her arms around her knees. Clary laughed humourlessly at this.

"I just love it out here- especially with you; brings back great memories." She replied sarcastically, and Jace sucked in a breath through his teeth.

"O-kay, I guess I deserved that one." He responded, crushing his cigarette against the ground. Clary winced, and Jace looked to her.

"You did that last time." He said, watching her. Clary looked out onto the field, avoiding his gaze.

"Did what?" She asked.

"Jumped out of your skin when I put out my cigarette. Is that just another one of your fun quirks?"

"You're a total ass, you know that?" Clary responded; Jace laughed, running his hand through his hair.

"And you're a total mystery." Jace said bluntly, and Clary scoffed.

"I'm not a mystery, Jace. I'm just, I'm just me. That's it. Clary Fray." She covered her face with her hands again. "Clary Fray who does not like dances, and isn't interesting enough to be a mystery."

"So there's the hook; you're going to the dance." He said, and Clary heard the click of the lighter as he lit another cigarette. "I'm guessing Izzy talked you into it." Clary laughed.

"Nail on the head; but it's fine. I'll get over it." She said.

"Don't worry, I'll talk some sense into Isabelle, get you out of it-"

"Woah! Okay, stop right there. Don't say a word to Izzy." Clary responded, turning to Jace, looking him in the eye. "Seriously!" She reiterated.

Jace rolled his eyes, and Clary glared at him.

"What now?" She asked. He shook his head, taking a drag of his cigarette, then snapped at her.

"Every time I speak to you, you're doing something to please someone else-" Clary attempted to butt in, but he kept going. "Or, you're trying to hide something from people. You say you aren't a mystery, but you've got a hell of a lot of secrets."

Clary looked to her hands- he had no idea.

"Yeah well, what about you, 'Herondale', what's that all about?" She snapped. "What's the big secret there?" She continued, Jace laughed, and Clary glared at him yet again.

"That's not much of a secret, short stuff. Sorry to break it to you." He looked at his hands, crossing his arms over his legs in a mimic of Clary's position. "I was adopted- too old to be a Lightwood, too young to change my name." He finished.

Clary was surprised; obviously Jace looked nothing like Izzy or Alec; she hadn't met either of their parents yet though, and had just assumed that Jace took after one or the other.

"So then, spill. I showed you mine, you show me yours." He smirked, watching the rain slow.

"Jace, please. Drop the detective act, I just want-" Clary groaned, laying her head on her knees and hiding her face behind her hair before continuing. She let out a deep breath, then spoke again.

"I'm trying this new thing… where I have... friends..." She began, lifting her face to look Jace in the eyes once again. His features were hard, as usual, but he was watching her with an ardent curiosity. "Do you think we could do that? Be friends?" She finished, searching his face for any tell-tale expression. A smirk played at the corner of his lips, and it was his turn to look out at the field, taking another draw of tobacco smoke.

"You don't want to be friends with me." He said. "You barely know me." There was an edge in his voice, and Clary watched him carefully.

"I know that you're trustworthy. And a decent enough human being..." She said jokingly, then sobered up. "I know you would rather step into a fight in an alley than let a stranger get hurt." She finished, and he continued to watch the rain fall.

"And..." She watched his features, wondering if trusting him was just something she was compelled to do. Like a vulnerable prey falling for a predators tricks; but she couldn't help it- there was a sincerity, a clarity, around him that she hadn't seen in a long time.

"And I don't like how you put out cigarettes because... because I used to know someone who liked to put out stubs the same way..." This nugget of truth caught his attention, and he turned to face her again. "...except, on people's skin." She finished.

She expected to feel a weight off her chest, an unbreakable bond weave itself between her and Jace. Instead she just felt slightly less sick, and a shiver on her neck as cold water from the bleachers dripped down her spine.

Jace was staring at her now, scrutinising her.

"You are one messed up girl- you know that, midget?" He asked, and something about the way he said it made her laugh lightly.

"Believe me, I know." Clary said, before pulling herself to her feet. "I better head back." She said, brushing the mud from her jeans.

Jace stood too, and once again Clary noticed how much taller he was compared to her.

"I'll come with you." Clary shot him a look as he zipped up his dark jacket. "Hey- I have classes too you know." She scoffed, remembering the first time they were under the bleachers when they both should have been in class; he smirked at her expression, and they moved to leave the safety of the bleachers and head into open sky.

"So ... are we friends then?" She tried, swallowing her fear, and pride. He had saved her life; she owed him, and although her kindness would cost her nothing the idea of purposely agreeing to be friends with someone unsettled her.

Jace didn't reply, instead taking a long, final drag from his cigarette, then he threw it to the ground and crushed it on under his heavy boot, before exiting the bleachers and heading back to school.

Clary smiled at the small gesture, surprised, and followed after him.

Maybe this friend thing wouldn't be so bad after all.

…

"I can't Isabelle." Clary yelled, facing herself in the mirror in Isabelle's huge en suite bathroom. It was Friday night, the night of the homecoming dance, and Clary had been handed a dress by Izzy the second they entered her room, and Maia had received the same treatment. Isabelle had informed her that the dress was too short on her, but would fit Clary perfectly, and it was a pale green colour. Clary could tell that, on someone with Isabelle's stature, the dress was meant to be tight around the chest and flow out, but on her it looked like an empty bin bag. Not to mention the fact that it had tiny straps, and only hit knee length, so her arms and legs were on show.

Pulling the dress off Clary changed back into her clothes and exited the bathroom, throwing the armful of slinky material onto her friend's bed. Isabelle was sat on her couch painting her nails, and Maia was cursing as she attempted to pull her braided hair into some sort of twisted hairstyle.

"C'mon Clary! That dress would look fab on you." Isabelle pouted, but Clary just shook her head and laughed.

"Really and truly, it doesn't." She replied, shooting Isabelle an apologetic look. "Besides, I brought clothes with me." Clary continued, reaching the end of Isabelle's bed and grabbing her back pack.

When she had informed her mother early on Thursday morning that she was planning to go to Homecoming, she was secretly hoping that her mom would say no, or miraculously have the night off. Instead her mother had beamed and kissed both of Clary's cheeks before informing her that she was so glad Clary had found a nice group of friends. Jocelyn's eyes were so tired, for once showing her true age against her youthful face, that Clary didn't protest when her mother offered to find her an outfit.

She then insisted on giving Clary a top that Clary had only seen her mother wear once, to a gallery show. It was long sleeved (which she was thankful for) but made of a lacey green material, emerald and rich, and was scattered with shimmering sequins. Her mother had found the gem at a second hand store years ago, and Clary felt a surge of nostalgia when she remembered her mother dressed to the nines, hair pinned up, arms etched with emerald lace and a flowing skirt swirling around her legs.

Shaking out of her reverie Clary pulled the top from her bag and carefully unfolded it before pulling out a pair of jeans.

"Cla-ry!" Isabelle shot. "You can't wear jeans!" She continued, and Maia let out another curse.

"They're black." Clary commented, a grin on her face. Isabelle rolled her eyes and pointed her nail polish brush at Clary threateningly, a drop of glittering blue polish threatening to spill.

"Fine; but I get to do your hair and make-up." Isabelle huffed, and the two girls laughed.

"I wouldn't have it any other way." Clary placated, and headed back into the bathroom to change.

Pulling the top over her head she relished the smell of her mother's perfume, then pulled on her jeans; they were tighter than she usually wore, and much higher waisted, and she found herself having to tuck in her top. She never wore outfits like this, and the shape of her body was fully on show in the tight clothes. But, in spite of everything, she liked the way it looked.

She exited the bathroom once again, and Maia caught her in the mirror, and whistled.

"Clary Fray, who knew you were such a hottie!" She said, cackling afterwards. Isabelle even beamed, telling Clary to twirl around for her. Clary complied, her arms spread out as she turned herself in circles, giggling wildly.

Isabelle stood up, flapping her hands to ensure her nails were dry, before pulling a pair of ankle boots from her closet.

"Practice walking in these." She said, thrusting them at Clary. They weren't too high, but considering the fact Clary usually wore beat up sneakers they were a challenge.

She laced them up on her feet and stood, the few extra inches making her feel ten feet tall, and began to walk around Isabelle's room whilst the girl herself switched on her radio, and Maia began to sing badly to some indie band while pinning her hair in place.

…

An hour later Clary was in the chair in front if the mirror having her make up done by Isabelle. The girl had been making odd comments every now and then, but mostly she had been instructing Clary to tilt her head- or not tilt her head. Maia was already changed into a gold dress, strappy and flowy, with a pair of high black heels that made her tanned legs look incredibly long. She had done Clary's hair, spraying it with something that smelled of fruit and soap, brushing it out gently and flattening the usual kinks with a curling wand.

"Okay, and let me just add a teeny bit more powder…" Isabelle muttered under her breath. Clary had her eyes closed, and felt a soft brush tap against her chin. "Done!" Isabelle exclaimed, stepping back and spinning Clary's chair around so fast she thought she would get whiplash. "Now open your eyes." Isabelle demanded, and Clary complied. And, for a moment, she didn't realise she was looking in a mirror; the girl in front of her had a haze of soft curls floating down her shoulders, catching red and gold in the artificial light like fire. Wide green eyes stared at her, thick lashes sweeping against her cheek as she blinked, and a smudgy ring of gold and green made her eyes look huge.

And even better, the powdery make-up that polished her face covered up the ugly scratches on her face.

"Wow." She breathed. "Isabelle, you're incredible! How did you learn to do make up like this?" She asked, turning to look at the girl. No offence to her friend, but in their art class Isabelle tended to fail miserably at painting in acrylics, but with an eyeshadow brush she was a magician.

"Oh, I just like doing it." Isabelle commented, slicking on another coat of a deep purple lipstick, checking her impeccable hair in the mirror. "I used to want to do it professionally but…" She trailed off, and Clary caught the wistful look in her friend's brown eyes. "Never mind. C'mon gals- let's get our stuff together."

Clary wasn't bringing anything with her but her phone, which she slipped in her coat pocket, before following the two girls downstairs with her coat on her arm.

As she exited Isabelle's room she looked down the hall for her friends; she could hear their chattering and laughing and knew they must already be downstairs, and followed the sound of their chirping. Descending the stairs in the heels wasn't as hard as she expected, but as she reached the last step her confidence shuddered, and she felt her ankle twist as she stumbled down the last step.

Taking a deep breath she righted herself and continued through to the kitchen where Isabelle was tucking a flask into her bra and laughing with Maia. Clary laughed as well at the huge give away now sitting in Izzy's dress, and the black haired girl huffed.

"A bit conspicuous Izzy." Clary said whilst Maia cackled. Isabelle puled it out again, rolling her eyes then unscrewing the metal container, taking a swig and handing it off to Maia, who followed suit. Maia held out the flask to Clary, who took it- feeling the cool metal warm in her fingertips- but didn't drink.

"I'm not sure- I'm not much of a drinker." Clary said, but Isabelle grinned at her with sparkling eyes.

"Liquid courage, Clary." She sang, and Maia rolled her eyes.

"You obviously don't have to." She said to Clary; Clary thought for a minute, trying not to see a bad outcome from her having a drink. But then she was struck by the realisation that in less than half an hour she would be in a small space surrounded by a hundred thousand people that she didn't know. And so she brought the metal to her lips, tipping it back and letting the fire seep down her throat. She felt her eyes water but held back a cough, then swallowed. It wasn't half bad.

Isabelle whooped at her small friend before grabbing back the flask, and by the time that Alec descended the stairs with Magnus by his side, both dressed in smart suits, the three girls were a buzzing, giggling huddle.

"Clary! What a fabulous outfit, I love this colour!" Magnus exclaimed as he caught Clary by the arm, hauling her out of the front door and into Alec's car. Clary grinned, feeling the alcohol dissolve away her usual barrier of insecurity and distrust, and told Magnus that she liked his bow tie. He beamed at this, and soon they were followed by Maia piling in next to Magnus, and Alec and Izzy occupying the front seats.

Their journey to the school was loud and excited; Isabelle had plugged in her phone and the group was deafened by music as they sped through town, Isabelle passing the flask to everyone, except for Alec. By the time they reached the school Isabelle was singing loudly and Magnus was hanging over Maia, waving at people out of the window as Clary laughed freely.

Clary hadn't ever been to a dance like this; they pulled up beside the school, and all Clary could see was banners and streamers in gold and red (the school's colours) and a hustle of people walking through the front entrance into the hall. The car windows were open, and the cool night air thrummed with energy as the group exited the car. Clary was first out and she walked round the car, standing beside it and staring at the scene; it was menacing, daunting to her, and she was glad that her blood was pumping with a mixture of adrenaline and whisky.

"C'mon Clary- we are going to have so much fun!" Isabelle squealed, jumping out of the passenger side and looping her arm through Clary's. As the two of them waited for the others, Isabelle bent down and whispered in Clary's ear. "Don't worry about a thing; you are totally safe with us."

Clary blushed, but smiled gratefully and squeezed her friend's arm as Maia stumbled out of the car, grinning wildly. She righted herself, adjusting her dress so that it wasn't so crumpled, then slipped her arm through Izzy's free one.

"Okay ladies- let's do this!"

…

The hall had been decked out, and Clary wove her way clumsily through the crowd, trying not to spill the two drinks in her hands. The team had just arrived and, as Clary had been informed by Jordan, they had won the game easily, so the mood in the room was through the roof.

She approached the table occupied by her friends and slumped down in a chair, handing off a drink to Maia who was sat on Jordan's lap, shoes discarded, and was laughing at Magnus' failed attempts at getting Alec to dance.

"Thanks Clary!" Maia grinned, and Clary looked out to the dance floor where Izzy was dancing on her own. Everyone else had given up ages ago, but she was still going, and now all eyes were on her as many of the members of the football team attempted to get her attention. And Clary had to admit, she was ethereal; her long hair was flying, her short, dark blue dress shimmering under the fluorescent lights and her pale skin reflecting like moonlight. And her enthusiasm was infectious.

Clary's eyes scanned the room, taking in the couples standing too close and swaying out of rhythm to the house music, the sophomores in too short dresses. When Clary had first entered she had felt out of place in her jeans as she took in the flouncing dresses of most girls, but the casual confidence of Isabelle Lightwood made it easy to ignore any scathing looks and get caught up in the flow of the excitement.

Izzy bounced her way over to the table, grabbing Clary's hands and pulling her to her feet. Clary choked on the mouthful of punch she had swallowed and tried to protest, only resulting in Isabelle waving away her excuses.

She was pulled through the writhing bodies of teenagers into the middle of the dance floor with Isabelle, and the tall girl moved her hips to the music, swaying Clary's arms with her own. Clary's head was slightly foggy, and her protests died on her lips as the music and atmosphere consumed her. She tilted her head back, laughing, and allowed her body to move freely to the rhythm, passing under Isabelle's arm and twirling manically.

"Now this is my kind of party!" Magnus exclaimed, coming up behind the pair of laughing girls. Clary beamed, the music too loud to reply, and copied Magnus' moves without abandon, uncaring of the scathing looks some of the girls around were giving them. Alec, Maia and Jordan were still sat at the table grinning, but Maia shortly followed Magnus and joined the group dancing.

Clary felt a juxtaposing freedom; here she was, in a place that would usually cause her distress, trapped and vulnerable amongst sweaty bodies; instead she felt renewed, free of baggage- exhilarated.

Maia caught her free hand, and the four of them found themselves spinning in a wild circle, all hands and limbs and stumbling over each other. She knew her hair was a mess, and she could feel the sweat on her neck, on her face; she didn't care.

After a while, however, her shoes began to hurt her and she broke away from the circle, yelling that she would be right back, and headed out of the hall in the direction of the bathrooms hoping to take a break where it wasn't so loud and warm. She exited the hall, and the sound of the music faded (only slightly) as she entered the first girls bathroom she could find.

Walking to the sinks, Clary looked herself over in the mirror; her hair was wild, waving away from her face in a mess of curls; her make up was intact, and her eyes were wide and bright, and for the second time that evening Clary barely recognised herself- not because of the make-up, but because of the happy expression, the smile that was stuck on her lips.

Smiling wider at herself in the mirror Clary grabbed a paper towel and doused it with cool water under the tap, dabbing it carefully to her face to cool herself down. She brushed her hair away from her face and took some deep, steadying breaths to slow her heart beat, and checked to make sure her shirt was tucked in straight. Happy with her look she threw the towel into the trash and made to leave, but as she reached for the door handle she found it being shoved open roughly, and she jumped back so as not to get hit in the face with a door.

Giggling at an irritating pitch, Kaelie fell through the door, closely followed by Jace, who's hands were around the blonde's waist and who's head was close to hers.

"Shit!" Kaelie exclaimed, flapping as she looked up to see a shocked Clary, her watery blue eyes surprised. "What are you doing in here?" She spat, slightly out of breath. Clary felt like laughing at the question, but the situation was so embarrassing she just wanted to get out of the room.

"Leaving." Clary responded as calmly as she could before pushing past the pair, who were still intertwined, and heading back to the hall.

She shook her head to get rid of the feeing of unease; she knew that Jace would be here, as he was on the team after all, but seeing him with Kaelie again made her stomach flip. Mainly due to the fact that Kaelie, although textbook bitchy, scared Clary.

She was nearly back to the hall, but before she could enter again she found Isabelle, Maia, Jordan, a blonde that Clary didn't recognise, and Aline sitting outside the doors on the floor, all chatting idly.

"There you are Clary!" Isabelle exclaimed, patting the empty floor beside her. Clary grinned and sat down, and her friend leant her head of dark hair against Clary's shoulder. "I think the booze is wearing off." She explained. "It's not quite as fun in there anymore. Besides, more alumni arrived and I don't feel like knocking knees with 'Mr Pervy' the ex-quarterback." Isabelle stated, and the others laughed.

Aline smiled at Clary, for what Clary believed was the first time, and Clary smiled back.

"This is Helen." Maia explained, pointing to the blonde girl. Helen nodded her head and smiled, and Clary half waved. "She doesn't actually go here, but Aline sort of snuck her so she wouldn't be alone." She finished. Aline laughed, and Clary noticed her and Helen's intertwined hands.

"Yeah; the only reason I come to these things is because Kaelie would kill a bitch if the whole cheer squad didn't show." Aline stated. "I'm tired enough after that game."

Jordan snorted.

"You're tired? Try actually playing on the field- I only came to see Maia in this fine dress." He winked at Maia, who smacked his shoulder. Clary grinned.

"What's the deal with Kaelie, anyway?" Clary asked carefully. The group gave her an odd look (probably due to the fact that this was the first probing question that she's ever asked them) but Isabelle spoke up quickly.

"She's a senior, head of the cheer squad-" She nodded to Aline. "Does not like to be crossed. Oh, and she's dumber than a plank of wood but still thinks she's better than everyone."

"I see." Clary commented. "And her and Jace? Every time I see him she's not far behind- I nearly ended up in between them making out in the bathroom just now."

Maia burst into laughter at this, but Izzy huffed.

"I hate those two together. Kaelie thinks they're soulmates, Jace thinks she's just a friend with benefits; the whole situation is fucked up." She said, but whatever she was about to say next was interrupted by Magnus crashing out of the doors and zoning in on the group.

"Get your asses back in here before I die of boredom!" Magnus exclaimed. "Alec is faking an injury and I am trying to make the most of the fact that the DJ takes requests!" Isabelle laughed and dragged Clary to her feet, and the group returned to the dance floor for the last time that night.

….

Isabelle's arm was slung over her shoulders, the black haired girls other arm around Maia, and the two shorter girls struggled to practically carry Isabelle to her bed.

"I knew she shouldn't have taken the drink from Meliorn!" Maia huffed. "Iz may be a party girl, but she sure can't hold her drink."

Clary grunted in return, the weight of her friend preoccupying her. They finally made it up the Lightwoods flight of stairs and deposited Izzy onto her bed; she had lost her shoes a while ago, probably at the bottom of Alec's car somewhere, so Clary contented herself with removing her friend's earrings before turning to Maia, who was looking at her phone.

"Jordan's just pulled up- I'm sleeping over at his. You gonna be okay?" She asked, moving to grab her bag. Clary nodded, shooting her a smile, and Maia quickly folded her into a hug.

"See you, then." She pulled back and looked into Clary's eyes. "Thanks for coming, Clary. It meant a lot to Izzy- and it was way more fun with you there." She finished.

Clary blushed, looking down at her feet, and Maia waved goodbye as she rushed down the stairs and out of the door.

Isabelle's soft snores amused her, and Clary moved to remove her jeans and tight shirt, sighing in relief as she slipped on her soft pyjamas and scrubbed the make up from her face, revelling in the feeling of safety as she brushed her teeth. Her feet were sore, her throat was dry, but she was happy. She was soaring; although the after effects of the alcohol probably contributed to her dazed happiness, she felt like she was a totally different person.

Finishing changing, Clary slipped out of Isabelle's room and made her way to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water to quench her thirst, the fog in her mind making her forget that last midnight stroll she took in Izzy's kitchen. But she was reminded when she entered, and was met with the sight of Jace sitting by the open window, legs propped on the table, smoking. The lights weren't on, and his silhouette was highlighted by the dim glare of the moon filtering through the window.

He turned his head when she entered the room, catching her in the doorway, and she looked down. Jace grinned, turning back to face the window as Clary made her way to the fridge and laughing to himself.

"It's always you and me, Red." He said softly, and she nodded.

"Yeah; I'm having post traumatic flashbacks from the last time we were here together." Clary replied wryly, taking a sip from the bottle. Jace didn't reply, and Clary moved to sit in the seat opposite him when he made no indication of speaking again.

"I am sorry about that." He stated, smoke exhaling from his mouth languidly. Clary nodded, a feeling stirring in the pit of her stomach.

"I know." She replied. "I forgive you. Besides, friends don't hold grudges." She said, and he shot her a dark look, putting the cigarette to his lips again. Clary watched, fascinated as he inhaled nothingness and exhaled a plume of mist.

"Why do you smoke so much?" She blurted out, blushing hard and looking down as he raised his brows. He chuckled.

"It burns away the demons." He replied quietly, and Clary tilted her head.

"Can I try?" She asked softly. Flicking her a look to see if she was serious, Jace handed her his cigarette and she took it, imitating his was of holding it and bringing it to her lips. Jace's eye's were fixed on her lips, and she could feel her eyes crossing as she tried to watch her fingers. Deciding that tonight was the night to forgo all warnings about drink and drugs, she pulled the filter between her lips and pulled as much smoke as she could into her lungs.

It stung her throat and burned on its way down, and she could feel it settling on her lungs, making itself at home inside of her. Her eye's fluttered shut and she exhaled. There was a euphoria in the warmth and she could understand why it was addictive. But it wasn't for her. She opened her eyes, flicking back to Jace and handing him back the cigarette.

"Was that your first?" He asked, curious at her calm expression. She nodded. "How are the demons?" He asked with a smirk. She shrugged.

"Alive and kicking." She said.

He let out a short laugh, putting his cigarette back to his lips and taking the last drag before throwing it out the window. A silence stretched between them, and Clary wondered if it was normal to be sat in the dark with your friend's brother, smoking in the moonlight.

"So… homecoming…" Clary said, picking at a thread on her sweats. "I didn't know you were on the team." She finished flippantly, and he shrugged.

"Didn't think you would show." He parried, letting his eyes flick briefly to her.

"I said I would- didn't think you'd noticed, what with being wrapped around a certain blonde and all." She replied, an iciness in her tone that she didn't mean to harbour.

"Ouch, you don't like Kaelie?" A smirk crossed his lips, half in amusement, half in indifference. Clary looked up, eyes wide.

"I just don't understand how anyone could like her. She doesn't seem like a very pleasant girlfriend."  
She bit her tongue; this couldn't be her talking, being so outright and forward- so rude.

"She's not my girlfriend, Clary." He said quietly, and Clary realised that was the first time he had said her name properly. She rolled her eyes.

"Of course she's not- guys like you don't do girlfriends, right?" She muttered, and Jace rolled his eyes in mimicry.

"I thought I was trustworthy, now I have a type." He grimaced. Clary sighed in disdain, moving to stand up and leave. She was tired, confused. And apparently still drunk.

"I'm sorry, I really don't know what I'm talking about." She said, turning to leave the room.

"C'mon, we were on a roll there." Jace responded, and Clary looked back to him. For the first time she noticed his fixed stance; his long legs on the table, sock clad feet crossed. His back was slightly turned away so she couldn't see his whole face, and his arms were crossed.

He was intimidating. On purpose.

"Nearly a whole conversation there." He said again, and Clary flinched as he sung his legs from the table, standing up and moving toward her.

"I said I was sorry; what's got you hot and bothered now?" Clary asked, standing her ground. Her head was still foggy, her water bottle abandoned, and she too was beginning to regret taking a sip of whatever was in Meliorn's flask.

"I don't want you to be sorry, not for insulting me. Damn, you said the first honest thing to me then you took it back." He Said quietly, towering over her. She blinked, seeing his face swim above her.

"Fine, Kaelie's a bitch and your just as bad for using her." She spat, immediately clapping her hand over his mouth. She looked to him, eyes wide, but he was grinning.

"Calm down, short stuff. You know, you're the first person who's said that to me?" He laughed. She dropped her hands, confused.

"You're not mad at me for yelling?" She whispered. He raised a brow, but the almost gleeful expression fell from his face. He took another step toward her; the advancement made Clary panic and she stumbled back, crossing her arm protectively over her stomach.

She squeezed her eyes shut, and all of a sudden she wasn't standing in the Lightwood kitchen anymore. She was home, and she was nine, and she was crying…

"Clary!"

She snapped out of it, opening her eyes to see Jace standing before her, his brows knitting together.

"What." She gasped, he moved to put his hand on her arm but she took another step back. "I'm… I'm fine, I'm going to bed." She turned away and walked from the room, rubbing her head.

"Hey, wait. What was that all about?" Jace said, following her from the room. She looked at him imploringly.

"Please leave it. I'm still drunk, I really need to sleep." She said quietly.

He stuck his hands in his pockets, tilting his head. He was expressionless again. Turning on his heel Jace stalked away down the hall in the opposite direction to her, and Clary was left to walk back up the stairs and fall into Isabelle's room. Just as she was about to open the door, she heard Jace's voice carry up the stairs.

"Hey, Clary." He said, and Clary peered over the banister to see his faint presence in the dark hall.

"You looked nice tonight."

With that he was gone, and Clary was left to push into Isabelle's room, her heart beating erratically. She fell onto Isabelle's bed and felt Isabelle's comforter lift up, giving her access to the warmth underneath, and she shuffled in gratefully, feeling Izzy's soft arm press against her own.

"Where did you go?" Isabelle whispered into the dark. Clary closed her eyes, shuffling down to get comfortable.

"Just to get some water…" She replied, a knife twisting in her stomach. Isabelle hummed in response, falling back into her slumber, and Clary followed fitfully.

…..

The next morning Isabelle woke Clary with a large groan.

"Izzy?" She asked, sitting up in her bed and rubbing her eyes. Isabelle was sitting at her desk staring into her mirror with disdain.

"Look at my face! It's a mess." She scowled, rubbing at her black rimmed eyes with a make up wipe. She had changed out of her dress from the previous evening and put on a short top and a pair of baggy sweats. Clary laughed tiredly, watching her friend scrub at her face.

"That's what happens when you drink too much and sleep in half a pound of make-up." Clary commented, lying back in Isabelle's soft bed and sighing. Her head was foggy and the events of the evening were replaying in her mind in the wrong order, from dancing with Magnus to smoking with Jace in the kitchen.

"Yeah, yeah. Lecture me later, Mom." Isabelle replied, flinging a sofa cushion at Clary. She sighed, turning back and tugging a hairbrush through her knotted black hair, pulling it back from her face in a ponytail. Glancing at Clary's lounging form in the mirror she let her hairbrush drop down, turning around to look at her friend.

"Can I ask you something?" Izzy asked, watching the red haired girl in her bed.

"Sure…"Clary nodded, sitting up again. "What's up?" Clary asked, leaning over and grabbing her bag from beside the bed, pulling out her own hair brush.

"Are you sleeping with my brother?" She blurted out, watching the colour drain from Clary's face. Isabelle slumped back in her chair, continuing on. "It's just, when you came back to bed last night, you smelled like cigarette's again, and it only hit me last night that that's Jace's smell, not yours. And you do both have a habit of disappearing, so maybe your together. Besides, it wouldn't be the first time that someone has been friends with me just to get to my brother."

Isabelle finished, a dark tone creeping into her voice; Clary was totally speechless, shocked at the accusation.

"Isabelle." She said tightly, unsure of how to approach. "I promise, nothing happened between me and Jace- and nothing will!" She continued, her voice taking on a desperate pitch. "Like you said, we both like to be alone, we end up in the same places some times. But I swear, it's nothing like that Izzy- I want to be friends with you. If anything I'd put up with him to get closer to you." She finished, and Clary watched Isabelle with a pleading expression.

A second passed. And then, Isabelle's face split into a grin.

"Okay!" She said, spinning round again and facing the mirror. Clary started.

"That's it?" She said in shock. Isabelle let out a laugh.

"I kind of knew the answer already; just wanted to be sure." Izzy replied, and Clary rolled back onto the bed.

"A bit of a warning before a morning grilling next time." Clary huffed, and Isabelle just grinned again.

"Oh, you'll get over it. Wanna go out for coffee and pretend to do our History essays?" Isabelle asked. Clary smiled.

"Sure."

….

Later that day the two girls sat opposite each other in a small coffee shop, a lively scrawl of 'Java Jones' scattered across one wall, whilst they chatted. Clary had her history notes and phone in front of her, and Isabelle was sipping at a tall latte. That morning Isabelle and Clary had gotten dressed quickly before Alec had arrived home (dressed in the same clothes as the night before) and he had offered to give them a lift to Java Jones on his way to work. And they had been sat there for hours, Isabelle topping up her drink twice. They had managed to get some of their work done, but mostly they had been swapping stories about the dance.

"What do you plan on doing after school?" Isabelle asked Clary, who looked shell shocked at the very idea of the future.

"Um, I don't really know anymore." She said, picking up a pen and fiddling with it. "I used to want to go to art school, but it's not exactly practical." She finished, looking down. Isabelle frowned.

"I get what you mean; I asked my Mom ages ago if she's be cool with me studying fashion, but she's dead set on me going to law school." Clary's eyes widened.

"Wow. Law school… that's…"

"Crazy?" Isabelle interrupted with a wry smile.

"I mean, it's ambitious…" Clary finished, smiling sheepishly, then sighing. "For what it's worth Izzy, you're the most fashionable girl I've ever met- and super smart. You'll do well whatever."

Isabelle blushed (the first time Clary had ever seen her flushed) then dipped her finger into the foam of her coffee.

"I hope so." She murmured, and Clary shot her a reassuring smile. A bell chimed, and the two girls looked to the front of the shop to see a tall boy that Clary didn't recognise, and Aline. Aline caught sight of the two girls and waved, weaving her way to stand in front of the girls.

"Hi." Was her greeting, and Isabelle immediately launched into a spiel about the dance, and the two were preoccupied by gossip momentarily. Clary let her eyes wander around the shop, and they landed on the person who Aline had walked in with; he was a tall, black haired boy with a lean stature. His face was sharp with a mouth that looked like it was made to smirk, and his eyes were so dark. Almost black. Just like…

Clary snapped herself out of her reverie and stopped staring as she heard her name.

"Has Clary met him yet?" Isabelle asked, and Clary tuned into the conversation.

"Met who?" She interjected, and Aline laughed.

"You've got your head in the clouds, Fray." Aline said, then waved at the boy Clary had been staring at. "This is Sebastian; he goes to our school- when he can be bothered." She muttered; Sebastian laughed and walked over to the group, slinging an arm round Aline's shoulders.

"Chatting shit about me, cousin." He asked, glancing at the two sitting girls. "Izzy- finally going to take me up on my offer?" He smirked, and Isabelle rolled her eyes.

"In your dreams, Verlac." She grinned, but Clary could sense an edge in her tone, and caught Izzy's eye.

"Um… It was really nice to meet you…" Clary mumbled, picking up her phone. "But my mom just texted, so we better get going…" She hinted, and Isabelle jumped t the chance, grabbing her bag and bouncing to her feet.

"Nice to see you guys! C'mon Clary, I'll give you a lift." Isabelle exclaimed, and Clary only just had time to stuff her notepad into her bag and grab onto it before Isabelle caught Clary's arm in her own and whisked her from the café, the short girl stumbling over her own feet.

"Woah, slow down!" Clary gasped as the two hit the street. Izzy linked their arms, slowing her steps, and sighed dramatically.

"Sorry Clary, but that guy is a total creep." She huffed, pulling the both of them along the sidewalk at an uncomfortable pace for someone with Clary's leg length.

"What's the story there?" Clary asked, trying not to lose her breath. Izzy rolled her eyes again, a reoccurring theme in their friendship.

"He is like the biggest man whore you'll ever meet, and has no redeeming qualities." She said, and Clary looked to her in confusion. "He's been trying to get me to go on another date with him since I was stupid enough to agree when I was a freshman. And believe me, my idea of a date is not getting felt up half way through a crappy an action movie then having to walk home alone when your date ditches you for his football buddies." She continued with disdain.

"Ouch." Clary said, "What an asshole." She finished, and Isabelle laughed.

"Just promise me he won't suck you in; he's an ass but he has a way with the ladies. I've held back from smacking him because he's Aline's cousin but if he hits on me one more time I'm gonna lose it."

"Believe me, he won't even try to suck me in." Clary reiterated, and Isabelle stopped them in the street.

"I'm serious Clary- he'll never leave you alone if you give him the time of day." Isabelle said seriously, her beautiful face twisted in concern. Clary had forgotten what it was like to have someone really care about her, and she nodded.

"Sure- ignoring people is my best quality." Clary said quietly, and Isabelle nodded, relieved.

"Don't I know it." Isabelle replied with a smile, and they continued down the path, Isabelle agreeing to walk Clary home.

….

The next few days passed uneventfully; Clary stayed home and caught up with her studies, receiving a phone call from Simon on Sunday, who ranted about his families weekend away. She stayed up as late as she could both nights, waiting for her mom to come home. The whole weekend she had been working back to back shifts, and Clary was beginning to worry.

Monday morning she woke up alone again, her mother not there with her usual wake up call, and Clary felt the feeling of unease grow. She checked her phone for messages, but all that was there was the text from her mother from the night before informing her she was working late and leaving early.

Getting up slowly Clary pulled up the blinds in her room, letting the grey morning light filter in and cast a dull glow on her possessions. The good mood from Friday evening had worn off and now she was just awash with worry, waiting for her mother to return home and reassure her.

She knew money was tight; she did everything she could to not spend money on herself, on anything. But she knew her mom was struggling.

Jumping in the shower quickly and heading to get changed, she checked her phone regularly, hoping to hear from her mother. But when Isabelle pulled up at half seven, sending her a text, she knew that waiting was useless, and that she just had to get on with the day. And the absence of a glass of orange juice on the table just reminded her that her mother was gone.

Running out of her apartment she made sure to lock the door, then made her way down the stairs to Isabelle's waiting car. Maia was already in the passenger seat eating a piece of toast, and Isabelle gave her a one handed wave as she climbed into the car.

"Morning, sunshine!" She exclaimed, and Clary gave her a small smile in return, an uneasy feeling settling in her stomach. "What's up?" Isabelle turned in her seat to face Clary, but the red haired girl waved off her friend with a non-committal shrug and brought her phone from her bag, watching the screen in anticipation.

Isabelle shared a look with Maia before driving off to school, the girl in the back of the car ignoring the Monday chatter in an attempt to stave off her worries.

It wasn't until after home room that Isabelle cornered Clary in the girls bathroom.

"Okay." Isabelle said, pulling Clary into the bathroom and pushing her own back against the door so that no one could enter. "Spill- what's going on? I though gloomy-Clary was finally hitting the road. Did something happen?" Clary was immediately assaulted by questions, and the tone with which Izzy was talking to her was so concerned, so genuinely caring that Clary couldn't stop herself from throwing herself into her tall friends arms and hanging on. The first proper hug she had initiated in a long time.

"Woah! Hey… you're okay.." Isabelle said, slightly shell shocked, and she rubbed Clary's back comfortingly.

"Sorry." Clary whispered into Isabelle's shoulder. Izzy gently pushed her back, looking into the smaller girls face.

"Okay, now you really have to tell me what happened." She said, and Clary moved to sit on the small counter beside the sink. Isabelle stood against the door, watching her.

"I'm sorry. I know I'm not much fun to be around. I have an alarming ability to attract bad vibes." Clary said sarcastically, and Isabelle raised her brow showing that she wasn't leaving until she got some answers. Clary sighed.

"I'm just worried about my mom. She works so much, I haven't seen her in days." Clary said, and Izzy furrowed her brows. "She worries about money, and I worry too. I just… I'll be fine when I hear from her." She finished. Isabelle walked over and gave her another hug, and Clary savoured the sweet smell of her perfume, her warm embrace.

"I'm sure everything will be okay, Clary. My parents are never home either, and teen angst can make it easy to worry." Isabelle said reassuringly, hugging her friend. "You're always free to stay at mine, or I can crash at yours if it gets too lonely?" Isabelle said, and Clary smiled. She'd never had a friend she could confide in before, and for the first time an actually weight lifted from her chest. It was a nice feeling.

"Is this money thing the reason I never see you eat anything?" Isabelle asked, and Clary looked shocked.

"I guess… I hadn't noticed." Clary responded. "I just don't want to owe anyone anything I can't repay- my mom thinks I buy lunch at school, but I just save it in case we need it." Isabelle shook her head.

"You're still a kid Clary, let your mom take care of you- let other people! You're too young to be this worried." Isabelle said sternly, and Clary almost laughed at her serious expression.

"You know, Izzy, you're the best friend I've ever had." She said carefully, bumping her shoulder with Izzy's as she slid off of the counter. Isabelle grinned.

"I know. It's a talent." The raven haired girl said, leading them out of the bathroom. "Seriously Clary- if you need me, just ask. I'm here for you. We all are." They shared another smile, and began to walk to English. "Okay, so, excuse time. What'll it be- surfing the crimson wave?"

…..

The day was passing slowly, and by the time that lunch rolled around Clary had cheered up immensely; she decided that she liked Simon a lot- he was in her art class as well, but unlike Izzy who mainly repainted her nails or did her homework rather than work, he was really good at graphic art, and he and Clary spent lunch bonding over comics.

She didn't mention that the only reason she ever read those comics is because her brother bought them.

Halfway through lunch, however, the usual group had an unexpected guest. Alec and Magnus were surprised when Jace slumped down next to Alec; today dressed in dark jeans, a white t shirt, and his dark jacke- large purple circles under his eyes.

And as he sat, the whole group turned and noticed a distraught looking Kaelie sit down at the cheer leaders table, tears streaming heavily down her face.

"You finally dumped Kaelie then, Jacey-kins?" Magnus asked, a sly look crossing his face. Jordan snorted from his position next to Maia, receiving a usual punch. Jace grimaced.

"We weren't dating, twinkle toes." He sighed, pulling out a book and opening it. The whole group was watching him, waiting for some sort of explanation. His eyes were burning a dark amber, and Clary was watching him carefully, remembering her remark to him on Friday night. His eyes caught hers momentarily, and she looked away.

"Look, quit staring, okay? I just decided to grow up a bit- and Kaelie was getting way too clingy." He muttered, sticking his nose into the book and zoning out.

"Well… anyway." Simon said, turning back to Clary and shooting her a look. She grinned, finding the whole situation amusing. Especially when Kaelie starting wailing so loudly that Jace banged his head against the table.

The group continued their lunch, the conversation occasionally interrupted by Kaelie's lamenting.

And then Clary's phone rang. Pausing her conversation with Simon Clary dug her hand into her bag, expecting to see her mother's face and number. Instead it was a blank screen displaying Luke's number and Clary furrowed her brows, rising from the table and rushing out of the cafeteria with her phone in her hand.

Simon shot Isabelle a confused look, but Isabelle was already on her feet rushing after Clary, and the others at the table looked on in confusion.

…

"Hello?" Clary said, bringing the phone to her ear as she rushed down the hall, attempting to get away from the noise of students having lunch.

"Clary? It's Luke, I'm sorry to call you during school, it's just it's Jocelyn…" Her mother's boss spoke down the receiver, and suddenly Clary wasn't there anymore. She was floating above herself, watching events unfold in slow motion.

"….hospital…"

"…collapsed…"

"…Principal…"

Clary let the phone fall from her hands in a panic. Her mother had collapsed at work, ending up at the hospital. Why was this happening?

She stood in the empty hallway, blank faced, letting the world around her keep spinning; she could hear Luke still speaking out of her abandoned phone, and someone approaching behind her. There wasn't any feeling anymore… she wasn't there any more…

And then she was shaken back to reality by Isabelle, who's ear was glued to Clary's phone, and she was talking rapidly to Luke; ending the call she pocketed Clary's phone and took Clary by the arm shaking her.

"Hey- Clary! Snap out of it!" She yelled, and Clary focussed her eyes.

"Izzy…" She whispered, eyes wide. "My mom…"

"I know, your boss told me. C'mon, we're ditching; I'll take you to the hospital." Isabelle said. Her voice was calm, but really she was trying to keep it together for Clary- Luke had explained that her mom had fainted at work, and that she hadn't woken up yet.

Clary nodded slowly, barely following her friends words.

"Clary!" Isabelle yelled, and Clary finally snapped out of it.

"Okay- I've got to get my bag from the cafeteria; I think Luke said he called the Principal so we can just leave…" Clary said as calmly as she could.

"Who's Luke?" A voice from behind them said, and the pair turned to find Jace standing in the hallway, hands in his pockets, with a perpetually curious look on his face.

Isabelle pushed passed him, making their way back to the canteen, Jace following behind; Clary didn't have the patience today and kept walking.

"C'mon, where are you ditching to?" He continued, following at an alarmingly fast pace on his long legs.

"Jace, I know you feel the need to be in the loop, but just know that today isn't the day." Isabelle replied. They had reached the cafeteria again and Clary rushed in, leaving Isabelle and Jace waiting by the doors as she rushed to their table to retrieve her bag.

"What's going on?" Jace asked Isabelle seriously, joking aside. Izzy gave him a look.

"Why do you care?" She shot back, glancing back into the canteen to see where Clary was. Jace shrugged, following his sister's gaze.

"I don't, just wonder what's so exciting you're leaving school for." Jace responded, watching her. Clary was fishing under the table, Simon talking to her glibly, and Isabelle knew that she would be exiting the cafeteria soon. She turned to her brother.

"Look, I don't know what's going on with the two of you, or why you keep turning up together, but you need to stop. Just leave her alone Jace- she's having a rough time. You should know that."  
Jace frowned again, unsure of how to respond.

"Is she okay?" He asked, looking through the cafeteria to follow Clary's exit. Isabelle raised her eyebrows.

"Jace. Take a step back from this, okay? The last thing she needs is someone unpredictable lusting after her." Izzy said venomously; Jace scowled, running a hand through his hair.

"Glad you think so much of me." Jace spat, pushing past her and walking past the cafeteria, out to the back of the school. Isabelle watched, curious, but Clary exited the canteen as different scenarios began to run through her head.

"Let's go." Clary said, pulling on her back pack, and the two girls made their way out of the front of the school toward Isabelle's car, Clary trying her best to keep it together.

….

Hospitals and Clary Fray did not mix well; as she and Izzy made their way up the elevator, Clary's heart was pounding erratically to the rhythm of her anxieties. Isabelle slipped her hand into Clary's; Luke had called them while they were in the car, and Clary kept it together long enough to talk to him. He had told them what floor Jocelyn was on and the two made their way immediately up.

"I'm sorry." Clary said into the elevator, and Isabelle frowned.

"What?" She said, looking to the small girl. Clary took a deep breath.

"I'm cursed. I shouldn't of… We shouldn't be friends… Stuff like this will always happen." Clary said quietly. Isabelle felt a surge of sadness for her friend, and slipped and arm around her soldier.

"Shut your mouth, Fray." Isabelle said as the doors dinged open. "Everything will be fine; I'll make sure of it." Isabelle said, and the two of them walked together down the hallway, not yet knowing what lay in wait for them.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Yikes its been a long time, but I'm still going strong with this story. Someone let me know if I need to change the rating, and definitely leave a review as it cheers me up so much! My mental health has been in the pits at the minute which is why I haven't uploaded, but here you guys go! Enjoy...**

 **Chapter 4: Damage**

When Clary was ten, her mother was put in hospital for the third time in a year, and because of her constant injuries, the doctors kept her in the hospital over night for observations. Clary had gotten her brother Jonathon, who was nineteen at the time, to drive her to the hospital. Her father was nowhere to be seen, and her mother was sitting up in her hospital bed with a black eye and a split lip, her arm attached to a dripping bag of pain medicine. But she had smiled when her children entered the room, ignoring Jonathon's grimace and reaching out for Clary to climb into her lap.

Jon had been planning on moving out. That's was he shouted at his mom when Clary left the room to get her mother a drink; Clary was small enough to not be noticed as she pressed her ear to the wall and eavesdropped on the pair's conversation. Her older brother had taken on a job at his college and they had offered him free accommodation- he had accepted. But he had an ultimatum; he would stay with his mother and sister, help look after Clary- if Jocelyn agreed to leave her abusive husband once and for all.

Clary had burst into the room at that point, hot tears spilling from her face. Jonathon had picked her up, burying his head in her hair, and she had wailed. The little ten year old Clary had begged her mother to leave her father, begged her to let them stay together.

So they did. Jocelyn had left the hospital without being discharged; Valentine Morgenstern was no-where in sight when they got home, so the three packed everything that they could carry and left, Jocelyn leaving a cold note for her husband to find in the morning. They then piled into Jonathon's car and drove away from the house they had lived in for nineteen years.

The most vivid part of that memory for Clary wasn't the fact that that had been the first day of their freedom. It was that, even though her mother's face was beaten up and she was vulnerable in a hospital bed, her face had lit up when Clary entered the room.

So when, seven years later, Clary walked into her mother's hospital room with Luke and Isabelle rather than with her brother, she expected her mother to be sat up in bed, smiling the same smile that had kept her going for the past half a decade. Except, she wasn't.

The room her mother was in was tiny, a small window letting in the midday sun. Her mom was lying on her back, hair fanned out in a blaze of hazy crimson, and her arm was attached to a far too familiar IV bag, a heart monitor beeping steadily away.

"Oh God." Clary whispered, her blood running cold.

"I'm so sorry, Clary. She came in this morning, early, and I just assumed that she was early on purpose. But she was wearing her diner uniform; I don't think she had been home all night."

Clary nodded as Luke spoke, barely taking in what he was saying. She moved closer to the bed, to her mother, and tried her best to hold herself together. It wasn't the first time she had been in a hospital, but it was the first time a sinking feeling threatened to grip her to the point where she felt like passing out.

"I'm just gonna call my mom quick and let her know where I am, in case school calls her. I'll be right back, okay?" Isabelle said quietly; Clary turned and nodded at her, unable to smile, and the tightness in Izzy's voice gave away her tears as she rubbed Clary's arm and exited the room.

Turning back to her mother she walked toward the bed, falling tiredly into the hard backed chair that was beside her, laying her head on the bed.

She stared at her mother's face; the pale skin that gave way to deep purple bags under the eyes, hollow cheekbones and smatterings of auburn freckles across her nose. Clary used to long to look like her mom; she was taller than Clary, and her hair (although the same shade of fiery red) fell in smooth waves across her shoulders. She was beautiful. But right now, she was so lifeless.

"She's breathing on her own." Clary murmured quietly, watching the slow heaving of her chest. She then looked to Luke, who was stood on the opposite side of the bed, and sat up. "What the hell happened, Luke. She just collapsed?"

Clary watched the older man; she had liked him ever since she met him- he had kind, grey eyes and dark hair streaked with silver. And he was kind to her mother, but right now there was a look in his eyes that told her he knew something that she didn't. He shifted his weight uncomfortably before replying.

"I think she was over worked. She came in, put her stuff on her shelf- next thing I know she's on the ground and not waking up. Amatis called an ambulance as soon she saw her." Luke said carefully, crossing his arms and checking Jocelyn's monitor discreetly. Clary turned back to her mother.

"When will she wake up?" She whispered; Luke didn't reply, but before Clary had any time to panic Isabelle re-entered the room, closely followed by a tall, dark haired doctor. Isabelle swiftly made her way to stand behind Clary, and Luke wrung his hands.

"Miss Fray?" The doctor asked, and Clary made an effort to sit up straight, shaking the doctor's outstretched hand. "I'm Dr Blackthorn, I'll be treating your mother. Mr Garroway has already given me her insurance information, so she's covered." The doctor started before turning to glance at Isabelle. "Are you okay if we step out for a moment?" He asked. Clary caught Luke's eyes, the way that his brow was furrowed together, then nodded. Isabelle rubbed her shoulder, sitting herself down in a chair by the window and smiling tightly.

"Okay…" She rose up, clenching her fists tightly, then followed Dr Blackthorn out into the empty hallway. The smell of sterile sheets and warm water was sickly and Clary grimaced at the sensation, closing the door to her mother's room as she faced the doctor.

"Miss Fray, your mother is going to be perfectly fine." Dr Blackthorn began, and Clary's brows knotted together. He glanced down at his clipboard before continuing. "I know it must have seemed a lot bleaker coming in to find her asleep, and unfortunately I would have preferred to have you see your mother first, but Mr Garroway insisted on staying with her so he had the job of informing you." The doctor continued. Clary could still feel the ache of worry in her throat.

"What's wrong with my mom?" She blurted out, twisting her hands together. The doctor frowned, pulling off his glasses and wiping at them.

"Conclusively, we would say an acute panic attack caused brief asphyxiation- she passed out because of it. But we've also run some labs and it seems that there has been some undue stress on your mother's heart, as well as dehydration." The doctor seemed to just be spouting medical jargon at Clary and she frowned. "There's also some evidence of a former chest injury that could have exacerbated the injury-" He finally slowed down and spotted the confused expression on her face, smiling a tight, sympathetic smile.

"Your mom is putting her body under a lot of stress, and her brain and her heart are telling her to slow down. She's asleep right now- sedated- but she's going to be on some medication for the next few months to keep her blood pressure down. But by tomorrow, she'll be up and around, and she'll be out of the hospital." Dr Blackthorn finished, placing his glasses back on. Clary's head felt light and she let out a breath; her mother would be okay.

"So… she's going to be fine? This won't happen again?" Clary pressed, tucking her hair behind her ear and bouncing on the balls of her feet. Dr Blackthorn tilted his head to one side, meeting her green eyes with his own, warm gaze.

"Like I said, she'll be perfectly fine as long as she takes the time to recuperate; the human body is tough. I do have a few questions that I need to ask though about her medical history, her lifestyle…" He replied, and Clary nodded in cooperation.

"Okay…" He looked down to his clipboard and pulled a pen from his coats pocket. "Is your mother a smoker?" He asked, and Clary shook her head. He recorded her answer, then continued. "Does she have a past history of heart issues? Or panic attacks for that matter?."

Clary bit her lip.

"She doesn't have any heart issues, but she had a collapsed lung, maybe ten years ago? And she hasn't had a panic attack in a long time." She finished, watching the monotonous scribble of Dr Blackthorn's pen, his head nodding.

"Okay, thank you- that's a lot of help. Visiting hours go on until eight this evening, and by tomorrow your mother will be awake- that'll make you feel a whole lot better." He finished, clicking his pen and returning it to his coat pocket, and began to turn to leave. But before he did he turned back once more.

"Oh, and I believe your mother's belongings are with her boyfriend, if you're looking for them." With that he turned and swept in the opposite direction down the hallway, and Clary's face crumpled in confusion.

Boyfriend?

Clary swallowed and made her way back into the room, pushing the heavy door and taking in the sympathetic face of Izzy sitting in one of the chairs, the distant expression of Luke who was standing close to Jocelyn's bed, and the blank face of her sleeping mother. Isabelle stood up and crossed the room to her, reaching out and rubbing her arm with a warm hand.

"You okay?" She asked, trying her best not to pry. She hadn't known Clary long, but she had learnt more about her in a day than she had in the past month, and she didn't want to lose their friendship by crossing a line. Clary grimaced.

"The doctor said she would be fine by tomorrow, and there's just some meds she has to take…" Clary said quietly, close to Izzy's face; the black haired girl searched Clary's face, telling by the hard mask that she wasn't okay, but she just nodded and smiled reassuringly.

"That's so good, I'm glad." She replied carefully. Clary sighed, looking passed Izzy to where Luke was watching them curiously.

"Izzy, do you think you could find some water? If that's okay…" Clary asked. Isabelle nodded enthusiastically.

"Of course! There's probably a vending machine down the hall, I'll go ask a nurse." Izzy said, patting her arm again as she strolled from the room, her long hair swinging. As the door shut behind her, Clary turned to Luke whose hands were so deep in his pockets the seams were almost splitting. Clary wiped a hand across her face.

"Boyfriend?" She said, watching Luke's face searchingly. "The doctor thought you were mom's boyfriend; why would he think that?" She continued. Luke sighed.

"Look…Clary…" He started, running a hand through his hair; Clary blanched, her jaw dropping.

"Oh God- it's true!" She exclaimed, and Luke nodded. "Is this why she's never home- why she's been so stressed out?" She continued, and this time Luke shook his head vigorously and took a step toward her. She took one back.

"It's not like that- and it's not what you think. She honestly has just been working back to back… but some nights she's been… staying with me…" Luke carried on, and his usually comforting voice grating at Clary's nerves. There was a limit to how many blows a seventeen year old could take, and Clary had finally reached her limit.

"We were going to tell you soon…" Luke said quietly, admittedly with a look of guilt. Clary held up a hand to stop him, but he kept going. "I understand this must be hard for you, but your mother and I are serious; when I suggested her move here to be closer to me she jumped on board. She deserved to be happy."

Move here. To be close to him…

Clary snapped.

"You know what Luke, you're right. She does deserve to be happy, she's always deserved that. I guess I didn't realise I was such a burden."

Luke's eyes widened and he began to stumble over his words. She spoke over him.

"I also didn't realise that I caused my mom's unhappiness. Thanks for clearing that up." She finished, and turned to leave the room- flying straight into Isabelle who was on the other side of the door clutching two bottles of water.

"C'mon." She said roughly, moving down the hall toward the lift. A desperate Luke attempted to follow but Isabelle just held up a hand, throwing him a bottle of water before following after Clary.

…..

Isabelle pulled up outside Clary's apartment building, watching the smaller girl carefully. She hadn't said a word to her since telling her to take her home, and the situation was making her more uncomfortable than she cared to admit. The second that the car stopped Clary leapt out, pulling her bag with her and racing to the apartment. Isabelle frowned and followed, leaving her bag behind and running inside the apartment building and following Clary up the stairs- she had already made it into her apartment, and Isabelle huffed as she ascended the stairs; Clary was behaving strange. And the scene inside her apartment was even stranger.

The door was wide open and Clary was nowhere to be seen; but the unmistakeable sound of drawers slamming was coming from Clary's room.

"Clary?" Isabelle asked tentatively, stepping into the apartment. "Are you okay?"

Clary exited her room, face hard and a pile of clothes in her hand.

"Fine." She said, dropping the pile of clothes into a large bag that was sitting open on the couch. Then she turned on her heel and headed back to her room- Isabelle followed anxiously.

"You don't seem fine- what happened back there? Are you packing to stay with your mom in the hospital?" Isabelle continued tentatively, hoping not to step over any boundaries. Clary let out a humourless laugh.

"That's the last thing she'd want. She's got Luke." Clary responded, pulling another pile of clothes from her small chest of drawers and heading back into the living room. Isabelle frowned, confused. And Clary's hurried packing wasn't helping much.

"What do you mean? Clary?" She pressed, moving out of the way as the shorter girl stormed past her in and out of the room, pulling random items from the hallway cupboard and muttering to herself. Her eyes were shining green, and the bright flush on her cheeks was unnatural. Isabelle stepped out of the room and hurriedly dialled Simon's number, quietly asking him to get Jace to bring her her overnight bag from his trunk. Simon tried to question her on her whereabouts and Clary's wellbeing, but Isabelle hung up before he could finish.

Moving back into the living room, Isabelle continued to watch without a plan as Clary continued to pack.

"Clary… What's going on… please explain. You're scaring me. Of course you're mom would want you with her- what are you doing?!" Isabelle finally exclaimed as Clary pulled a huge wad of taped up cash from under the couch.

"Isabelle. You may as well just go." The red head muttered, counting what was in her hand.

"Clary. Stop, seriously. Your mom-" Clary cut her off.

"My mom doesn't care!" She screamed, and Isabelle stepped back, stunned. It was like a switch had flicked inside of Clary, and Isabelle watched the small girl shake. She threw the cash across the room where it exploded against a wall like lurid confetti. She picked up her bag from the couch and hurled that too, screaming senselessly. Isabelle just watched.

A decorative bowl was next, then a kitchen chair, and then Clary began to shout again.

"I thought we moved here to get away from him! That's what she told me. Every night I dreamt about his face, I worried that we had to move because he found us in Washington-" A plate from the kitchen counter shattered against a wall. "I was terrified! She did that to me- and it was all a lie! We moved here for her boyfriend-" Clary's hands wove their way into her curls, pulling. "She lied to me…"

Tears were dripping down her cheeks now, and great horrible sobs racked her tiny frame. She mouthed the word 'liar' again, shaking her head.

Isabelle knew that the storm was finally over, and she rushed forward, wrapping her arms tightly around Clary as the small girl fell against her.

"I was so scared…" She sobbed, and Isabelle stroked her hair. They stayed like that for what felt like hours, Clary cleansing herself of anger and fear, Isabelle rocking her gently, the breeze from Clary's open apartment door rippling the discarded notes of cash.

And then, after an age had passed and Clary's sobs had subsided to hiccups, a shocked voice entered the room.

"So...Guess I missed the hurricane warning…?"

….

Clary sat on her couch clasping the hot cup of tea that Isabelle had made her tightly in her grip, watching as three of her friends cleared up the mess of her breakdown. Usually she would feel guilt, or embarrassment. But right now all she could feel was betrayed.

Her mother had told her to her face that the only reason they were moving was to keep one step ahead of Him, to ensure that he never caught up to them. Clary hadn't been convinced, not until her mom told her that she had seen a familiar face lurking around their small town- that had persuaded her to get the hell out of Washington state as quick as possible. But now… now it all seems like a clever lie- if her mother had really seen Him, they would have hidden much better, changed their names again. It seemed as though her own mother had used her greatest fear against her.

Clary shut her eyes and pressed the mug to her cheek, letting it's warmth sooth her aching skin. In the next room she could hear Simon and Jace arguing, Isabelle reprimanding the pair.

It was strange to hear so many voices in her apartment. But it was nice. Nice seemed to be in short stock lately; in the time she had been in New York, Clary had been publicly humiliated, assaulted in a dark alley, insulted by her new friend's brother on multiple occasions, and betrayed by her own flesh and blood.

If things got any worse, the world might just end.

She heard a crash and looked up- Simon peeked his head into the living room sheepishly, pushing his thick rimmed glasses back up his nose.

"Sorry about that." He grinned. Then his face grew serious and he entered the room, plonking himself down beside Clary and sighing.

"How are you, midget?" He asked, trying to read her face- she shrugged.

"I'm really sorry." She said, a sliver of embarrassment beginning to kick in. "For making you guys tidy up, and come all the way out here-"

Simon cut her off by bumping her shoulder.

"Hey, none of that; what are friends for if not to tidy up your apartment after a brief meltdown?" He laughed, and Clary smiled despite herself. And then Simon lowered his voice, once again pushing his glasses up his nose.

"I tried to run away once." Simon said, looking at his hands- Clary watched his face, curious, the crushing ball of sadness churning away in her stomach. "I was fourteen, and my dad had just died."

Clary sucked in a breath, and on instinct she reached out for Simon's hand, clasping it. He looked surprised, but was happy that she had.

"My mom wanted to move away, and my sister was already living away at college. I didn't want to leave, and I was so mad at my mom for trying to make me give up something so important. So I packed my bag, took the fifty dollars I had saved up to buy Zelda Infinity tokens and left."

He smiled sadly and turned to look at Clary.

"I mean, I was away for a whole twenty four hours, so that counts, right? My mom found me the next day sleeping on Eric's couch and took me home. Man, she was so mad. But I could tell it had scared the crap out of her, and I felt so bad. The thing is, she wasn't even that bothered about moving. I probably should have just talked to her." He laughed lightly, before turning to look at Clary.

"The point of that little tid bit, was to say that running away won't help you. But talking to your mom will."

Clary closed her eyes- Izzy had probably told him. She looked at him again.

"Thanks, Simon. I'm really glad we're friends." She said quietly, knowing that everything that he had said was true. He grinned widely, squeezing her hand.

Jace and Isabelle entered the room at that point, Isabelle chatting animatedly and Jace with a bag in his hand. Jace's eyes flicked over the pair on the sofa, his eyes lingering on their joined hands. He swallowed, trying to pay attention to Isabelle, and his eyes caught Clary's.

"And I told him that Aline would never, ever date him- and not just because she's a lesbian- Simon! There you are, come down to Jace's car and help me with my overnight stuff." She said, turning her attention away from Jace. Simon groaned, and Clary looked on, puzzled.

"Her overnight bag is a clever lie- it's more like three duffel bags taking up my entire trunk." Jace said, rolling his eyes. Isabelle punched his shoulder and headed for the door, Simon huffing and following after. Clary smiled watching them.

"So…" Jace said into the silence, and Clary looked up at him- she had avoided talking to him since he had arrived; after Simon had entered Jace followed and Isabelle had swiftly seated her on the couch, pressed a hot cup of tea into her hands and whisked off. She wasn't sure why he was here.

"Thanks for helping." She said awkwardly, looking at her hands. He dropped the bag that he was holding and sat heavily down next to her, sitting upright carefully.

"What happened?" Jace asked, curiosity overbearing his tact. Clary sighed.

"I just over reacted- my mom is in the hospital." She said slowly, and Jace nodded, already knowing. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to figure out what to say.

"Can I do anything? To help, I mean?" He said quietly. Clary shook her head, then took a deep breath.

"No, no I'm good. In a few weeks none of this will matter anymore, I'm just being stupid." She said, faking a smile. Jace nodded, accepting the fact that this was all he would get out of her, and stood up.

"Well, I've got nowhere to be tonight- I say we make a party of it."

…..

Isabelle's idea of cheering Clary up was to put on an obnoxiously loud film, order more pizza than four people could feasibly eat, and pull an unusually large plethora of nail polishes from her bag, forcibly painting any nails in sight. Clary knew she meant well and for the sake of her friend she ate a slice of pizza, despite the churning in her stomach, allowed her nails to be painted bright green, and laughed as loud as she could manage every time Isabelle did. But all she really wanted to do was curl up into a ball and cry so, when Isabelle was distracted with flirting with Simon, trying to get him to let her paint his toenails, she slipped out of the living room and into her room, shutting the door quietly.

Jace, who had been quiet for a while, sitting on the floor beside the couch and zoning out, followed Clary out of the room, and knocked carefully on her door. He heard a quiet sniffle, followed by no response, and decided that his worry overcame the bounds of social etiquette so took it upon herself to enter the room anyway, shutting the door equally carefully behind him.

Clary was sat on her bed, the small window in her room hanging wide open, her arms wrapped around her knees. There were tears running down her cheeks, and he decided it was best to ignore them.

"It's pretty cold in here." He said, sitting on the ground opposite her bed. Jace liked her room- it wasn't clean enough for his taste, but it was simple, with few things cluttering the small space- the complete opposite to Izzy's room.

"I like it." Clary whispered. "Reminds me of home." Jace raised his eyebrows- her eyes were still fixed on the night sky outside of her window, and she seemed so far away.

"Where's home?" He asked carefully; almost immediately he knew it was the wrong thing to say, as new tears began to run down her face, her green eyes eerily bright in the light of the moon.

"I'm not sure anymore, Jace. I've got nowhere left… No one left…" She trailed off, and Jace got up off the floor, tentatively sitting down on her bed next to her. She tensed up at first, unsure, but then gave up and sank into him, letting him wrap an arm around her and hold her tightly.

"I was so scared to come here- me and my mom, we had lived in Washington for so long, this tiny town called New Hope where they had only just discovered cell phones. Our house was tiny, and there was a hole in the roof, and it was freezing…" She laughed, hiccupping on a sob as hot tears spilled over. "My mom worked in a diner there as well, but they liked her, and they paid her well, so we saw each other every day… I can't lose her now. I'd die."

"Don't say that." Jace croaked. "Don't, nothing's going to happen- you're going to be fine." He said. Clary sobbed.

"How do you know? How could anyone get through this?" She whispered; Jace felt his face go cold, not just from the brisk wind.

"I did it. I do it every day." He said quietly; Clary's sobbing stopped, and she leant up out of his hold.

"What?" She whispered, her eyes wide and bloodshot. Jace's jaw hardened; he'd never talked about this before, and he didn't want to. But her eyes on his face, her small body curled against his- he could deny her nothing.

"My parents, they both died when I was twelve." He said carefully, detached from his own voice. He looked down, catching her eyes; however, where he expected to find pity, he found only… understanding? She sat up and flung her arms around him, squeezing him tight.

"Oh, Jace… I had no idea… I'm so sorry." He could tell that she was crying again from the dampness pooling in the crook of his neck, but he didn't mind, He wrapped both of his arms around her, hugging her tight.

"I never told anyone that, except the Lightwoods…" He said into her ear, and she rubbed her face against his shirt, leaning back out again. She shuffled back so she was sitting next to him, their hands close enough to touch.

"I had a brother." She said into the darkness, closing her eyes; if she tried, she could nearly see him. "He was nine years older than me, and way taller. He was my best friend." She continued, and Jace listened, waiting for what he knew was about to come.

"He died though, a long time ago. He was twenty, I was eleven- it was a car accident…" She swallowed. "His name was Jonathon too. And he wanted to be a musician, so that day at school when you were playing-"

"You called me Jonathon." Jace finished. "I thought you knew my name."

Clary smiled despite herself.

"I bet he would've liked you- sarcastic, took no shit. That was my brother." She grinned into the sky, the stars blinking down at her. Jace sighed and tightened his grip on her.

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again. We're pretty fucked up."

Clary laughed, the feeling of dread unravelling slightly.

"Yeah… yeah, we are."

…..

Simon and Isabelle woke up early the next morning, tidying up the chaos of the previous night and running down to the shop to buy cereal, before Isabelle crept into Clary's room to wake the sleeping pair. Her and Simon had peeked in on them half an hour after they stealthily disappeared to find them wrapped up like ribbon on Clary's bed, fast asleep. Isabelle decided that she wasn't mad at Jace for ignoring her warning- she doubted Clary had many people in her corner, and what kind of friend would she be if she denied Clary a supporter. It made her uneasy considering her brother's track record, but she knew she couldn't stop it.

Simon was drinking coffee and lying on Clary's living room floor when Jace wandered out having brushed his teeth and changed his shirt.

"Morning." Simon smirked as Jace entered the room, and Jace scowled.

"Shut up rat boy- don't even try any innuendos. And why are you on the floor?" He asked, steeping over the tall boy to cross to the kitchen, where Isabelle was sat on the phone.

"Iz told me to look for broken glass under the couch, but I got tired." He explained, rolling onto his back. Jace snorted.

"Right." He said. He nodded at Isabelle. "Who's she on the phone to?" He asked. Jace saw Simon's expression tighten.

"Luke, Clary's mom's boyfriend. They had a fight yesterday, well Izzy thinks so, so she's telling him to steer clear of the hospital for when Clary visits." He replied, sitting up. Jace raised an eyebrow.

"Has anyone met Clary's mom?" He asked, and Simon shook his head thoughtfully.

"I don't think so, I think Iz has stayed over a couple of times though, so maybe?" He finished.

Jace flashed back to the day Clary had been attacked, when he and Izzy had sat in Clary's bedroom laughing at nothing, trying to distract her from the darkness that always seemed to be lingering on the edge of her mood. That night Clary had been so adamant that her mother not find out about her attack it made Jace feel sick just thinking about it; he wondered what else Clary kept from her mother. But it seemed that the trait was genetic, as her mother kept a whole relationship secret from her daughter.

All three of the teenagers looked up as Clary exited her room, a fresh pair of jeans and a long sleeve sweater on, a determined expression on her face.

"Thank you so much for last night guys. You don't even know how much you helped…" She said carefully, tugging at her sleeves and brushing a stray curl from her face. "But I've wasted so much of your time, you guys are missing school- you should go, I'll be fine on my own." She finished, looking up and meeting Jace's gaze. Her green eyes were swimming with unease, and all three of the friends could tell that she was putting on a front.

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again Shortstuff," Isabelle stated, rising from her seat at the table, pocketing her phone and slinging on her jacket. "What are friends for? You're not getting rid of us that easily. Besides, Jace and Simon are going to school in a bit- but I'm giving you a lift to the hospital."

Clary slumped down onto the sofa at that, and Simon and Jace took that as their cue to leave. Simon briefly patted Clary on the shoulder, whispering a soft word of encouragement, and Jace simply nodded at her as he turned to leave the apartment.

He then drove Simon to school and spent the rest of the day avoiding his friends, thinking about his mother, wondering if the smell of camomile and honey would ever leave his memory.

….

She didn't want to be here again; Isabelle was by her side, and once again a nurse was leading the pair down the winding corridor of the hospital, the horrible stench of sanitiser invading her nose. All too soon they reached her mother's door, and Isabelle squeezed her hand gently.

"I'm gonna wait in the chairs over there." She said carefully. "Come and get me if you need anything- and Clary…" She started, pulling the smaller girl in for a quick, rose scented hug. "Hear her out."

Clary grimaced but hugged her friend back, pulling out of the hug and, before she could look back, pushing her way through the door into the private room.

There her mother sat, wide awake, fiery hair splayed out like a crimson pool. Her skin was as pale as the day before, and the dark circles under Jocelyn's eyes told Clary that she was exhausted. But that didn't stop the bubble of anger that rose from inside of her.

"Clary…" Her mother breathed, and the background beeping of the heart monitor sped up by half a second. "I'm so glad you're okay…"

Clary swallowed hard; at this precise moment in time all she wanted to do was approach her mother, hug her tightly, lie with her until everything was better. But she couldn't. Because of the lies.

"So, Luke's your boyfriend." Clary said quietly, leaning her back against the door so that she was opposite her mother- she didn't flinch, so Clary assumed that her mother had already been told about her outburst by someone. "Since when?"

Clary's mother sighed, rubbing her hands nervously together amongst the white bed sheets.

"Since just before we moved here. I chose to come here because of him. I know that's what you want to ask about, so go ahead Clary, I won't stop you."

Clary laughed at this.

"You won't stop me? Damn right you won't! I love you more than anyone in this world, mom- I trust you with my life. But you lied to me! You betrayed me… you made me think that we were moving here to get away from…" She cut herself off, feeling the hot tears begin to pool in her eyes. "I trusted you." She whispered again. Her mother looked pained, tears pooling in her won green eyes.

"I know Clary, I know- I just didn't know how to tell you, I didn't know how you would react; and believe me, we did move to get away from him. You're father is a smart man, he'll find us if we're not smarter." Her voice had a hard edge to it, and for the first time Clary considered how hard it must be for her mother. How lonely she would be. She let the tears fall, an anxious feeling gripping her chest.

"You should have told me." She stated again angrily, wringing her hands together and wiping at her tears. "What even happened yesterday mom, how come you're never home? Are you with Luke?" Clary finished. Jocelyn shook her head sadly, sighing.

"Not always Clary. I've just taken on a few more jobs than I guess I could handle." She said quietly. Then, all of a sudden, she was crying. "I just want to give you the best! I'm so sorry Clary, I know I should be around more but I'm trying, I'm trying so hard, to make sure that we don't have to go back to living in a car off of food stamps." She broke out.

The sour feeling inside her gut dissipated when Clary heard this; all the ill feeling that she had been harbouring since she found out that her mother was dating Luke disappeared when she realised that the reason her mother was so ill was her. She started forward, climbing into the bed beside her mother and letting her envelop her in her warm arms, IV hanging limply to the side.

"I'm sorry mom- You know I'm happy with what we have. And as soon as I'm finished with High School I'll get a proper job, help you out."

Her mother rubbed her back soothingly but shook her head.

"No, Clary. You're going to go to college, do something you love. I wish that things were easier, that you didn't have to worry so much. Bu we'll make it through." She finished softly, kissing the top of Clary's head.

"What happens now?" Clary asked carefully. Her mother laughed slightly.

"Well, the doctor says that I can leave tomorrow. Luckily I still have my insurance tariff, so the cost is covered- but I want you to go to school tomorrow, Luke is going to pick me up." Jocelyn said firmly and Clary smiled- her mother liked to pretend that she was strict. "And Clary…" She began again. "I really want you to like Luke. He means a lot to me, and he cares a lot about us."

Clary nodded into the crook of her mother's elbow.

"Of course I will. You know I have nothing against him…" She started. "Just… just be careful, mom." She said carefully. Her eyes lingered on her mother's long white arms, her lightly freckled face. And she couldn't help but notice the jagged scars that ran across her cheeks, the matching puckered spots of flesh that were scattered along her arms.

"I don't want you getting hurt." She finished.

…

The rest of the day was spent in tentative relief; Clary had left her mother's room briefly to get her lunch, and her and Isabelle accompanied her mother for the afternoon. Her mom loved Izzy; the brown haired girl had been nervous when she first entered Jocelyn's room, knowing that mother's had a habit of not liking her. However she was pleasantly surprised when Jocelyn immediately wrapped her in a warm hug, thanking her for looking after Clary.

"It was no trouble…" Isabelle said, her cheeks flushed red. But Jocelyn smiled knowingly at her, then turned the conversation to school.

By the time that evening fell Clary was feeling far warmer, regretting even thinking of running away. Isabelle dropped her home, a warm feeling settling on her as well.

"I would so stay over another night, it's just that Alec tole me my Mom is coming home with my little brother today. He's been at boarding school and I haven't seen him in a while… I'll be here to pick you up tomorrow though!" She chewed her lip, glancing up at the tall apartment building that Clary was about to enter. "But I mean, if you need me to stay I can-" Clary cut her off.

"It's okay Iz! Honestly, go and see your brother, I'll be fine." She opened the car door after briefly pulling Isabelle in for a hug. "Thank you, so much, for everything that you've done for me." She said quietly. And with that, she was out the door, rushing along the street to her apartment building.

Isabelle sighed into the emptiness of her car, turning the ignition on and heading out of the city toward home; the past day had been emotionally draining, and she now knew why Clary was such a closed person. It was like she was a magnet for bad luck; bullied by Kaelie, attacked in a dirty alley, then her mother ends up in hospital due to exhaustion. She sighed, turning on the Bluetooth to call Simon.

"Hello?" A voice rang out through the loudspeaker and Isabelle sighed.

"Hey, Si. Just checking in- how was school? Did I miss much?" She stated, holding back the tears that were threatening to spill over. She heard him shift and- most likely- turn off his game.

"It was fine, I guess… How's Clary?" He asked. Isabelle gripped the steering wheel.

"She's doing better, I've left her alone now because Max is coming home tonight and Mom wants to talk to us all together. But I met her mom today- she's awesome. And she's getting discharged tomorrow as well, and Clary will be coming to school."

"Oh…" Simon replied, and Isabelle's brows shot up as she came to a stop at a red light.

"Oh? What does that mean?" She said indignantly. No reply came, and she knew that something was up.

"Simon Lewis, you tell me right now what's going on…" She yelled, and could almost feel him flich through the phone.

"Okay, okay! No need to panic, it's just that there was sort of a fight today… about Clary…" He continued. Isabelle blanched.

"A fight?! About Clary- what the hell do you mean Lewis? You said I hadn't missed anything!" She exclaimed. Simon huffed.

"Well, I kind of hoped that Jace could clear it up before you guys came back. Don't yell. I'm sure the whole thing isn't even a big deal. Basically, Kaelie was being a bitch about Clary in Chem lab, so Maia got involved, then Aline did- and I think at some point Magnus threatened to slap her- but anyway, Kaelie just got nasty and kicked up a fuss at lunch- so then Jace got involved, but just to tell her to calm down." Simon reeled off the information at top speed, and Isabelle struggled to keep up.

"Wait, I don't get it- what was Kaelie being a bitch about?" Isabelle repeated back. "Sounds like a whole load of drama over nothing." She finished, finally turning into the drive of her home and switching off the ignition.

"I'm not sure… I think she was jealous because Sebastian mentioned her." Simon replied, and Isabelle growled.

"Ugh, Sebastian. That is another problem that I don't want any where near Clary." She said, switching to her handheld and exiting the car.

"Right. Anyway, hopefully Kaelie will have forgotten by tomorrow and we won't need to start a fight in the cafeteria." He finished, and Isabelle laughed humourlessly.

"Yeah that's the last thing we need. Okay, well I guess I'll talk to Jace about it- see you tomorrow." She signed off, and Simon followed suit.

Making her way into the house, she noticed that it was eerily quiet. Usually there was some sort of noise, from a TV, or Jace's music, or from Magnus chatting animatedly. But there was nothing.

"Hello?" She called out, dumping her bags on the hallway and making her way to the kitchen. "Is anybody-" She stopped herself when she reached the kitchen; her three brothers were sat around the dining room table, Alec with an arm around Max, and Jace leaning back in his seat. Their mother was nowhere to be seen, and she could tell something was wrong.

"Hey Maxie, don't you have a hug for your fave sister?" She said with false cheer, holding out her arms. Max immediately jumped out of his seat beside Alec and wrapped his tiny arms around her- he was only waist high on her, and he seemed so small. The second Isabelle's arms enveloped him he burst into tears.

"Woah, Max, what's wrong! What happened?" She aimed the end of her question at Alec who was running a hand through his hair.

"Mom and Dad picked up Max from school, brought him here. They were arguing the whole way back…" Alec started, and Max let out a cry at that part. "Then…" He choked up a little and coughed to cover it.

"Then Robert said he was leaving. He wasn't here when we got back, and Maryse left when we arrived." Jace finished, standing up from the table. Isabelle went white at his words, knowing full well that her parents weren't the role model for good relationships. But splitting up?

"Here Max, I got a new comic just for you, come help me read it." Jace said quietly, prying him off of Isabelle and leading him out of the room. He shot a quick look to Isabelle as the two left, a look that said they would talk later.

Isabelle turned to Alec once she realised that Max was out of earshot.

"What the hell is going on… Alec? How did this happen…" She ran a hand through her hair and sighed. Alec did the same.

"That's what I've been asking myself. But the thing is-" He cut himself off, and Isabelle gestured for him to continue, hand on hip.

"When he left, he was on the phone to someone, some woman named Jia…" Alec finished, watching Izzy's face. "I don't know what it means-"

Isabelle cut him off.

"It doesn't mean anything, okay? Just… forget it happened, at least until Mom gets back." She countered, before turning to grab her phone. "I'm gonna order a pizza, then we can give Max a proper party before he goes back in the morning." Izzy finished, and Alec sighed as she walked out of the room. It seemed to be a recurring theme in his family to walk away from important topics, and he knew that this issue was far from resolved; it was only just beginning.

…

Clary fell asleep quickly that night, falling into a peaceful, dreamless sleep, the warmth of her mother still on her skin. The night air was brisk through her window, but that was okay because she was wrapped up warm, safe, within the confines of her bed. She didn't notice the iciness of the air.

She also didn't notice the man sat in a car outside her apartment, camera in hand, watching her bedroom window as the stars shone above in the sky.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: I am so sorry for the huge gap in chapters, this year is just going to be so busy. But I'm not giving up, so stay with me! Hope you enjoy...**

 **Chapter 5:**

Clary was up early the next morning; her phone rang from beside her bed and she blinked herself awake, the grey light from the early morning filtering like water through her bedroom. She shook the sleep from her head and answered her phone.

"Hello?" She said thickly into the phone.

"Clary, honey, it's me." Her mom's voice came through the phone, and Clary sat upright in bed.

"Mom! What's up, are you okay?" She replied, the usual tightness in her chest returning. A chiming laugh followed.

"No, no, I'm fine. I just wanted to call… wake you up, make sure you're okay?" Her mother said. Clary knew that she felt guilty for keeping Luke a secret, she could tell by her tone of voice, and she felt a warmth spread over her.

"I'm good mom, Isabelle is going to take me to school today, she'll be here soon." Clary replied, climbing out of bed and sifting through her chest of drawers to find clothes.

"Oh that's good, honey. I like that Isabelle girl; her heart is in the right place." Jocelyn replied, and Clary grinned at that. She sure did.

They wrapped up their conversation and in less than an hour Clary was changed and ready for school, an absent note for the office stowed safely in her bag, and was making her way out of her apartment to Izzy's car. She opened the passenger door and slid in, turning to greet Isabelle.

Whose head was resting despondently against the steering wheel.

"Isabelle?" Clary asked carefully, watching her worriedly. Isabelle held up a silencing hand in response, momentarily silent, then she lifted her head and looked at her friend.

"I'm having a crisis, Clary."

…

The trip to school was filled with Isabelle's angry voice, and her aggressive soliloquy wasn't even over by the time they drove into school.

"And then Max just wouldn't stop crying- I mean, if Max is crying you know something's up, because he is the happiest kid in the entire universe." She says, then lets out a heavy breath.

"I'm so sorry Iz, if you need me for anything… what are friends for?" Clary says jokingly, repeating the mantra that Izzy constantly said to her. Izzy grinned a tight smile, then checked herself in the mirror.

"Be honest Clary- do I look hideous today?" Isabelle said solemnly, and Clary rolled her eyes at her beautiful friend.

"I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer… come on, we'll be late to home room." Clary said as cheerily as she could, and they clambered from the car.

The moment they had exited the vehicle, Clary was nearly knocked over by an enthusiastic hug from Maia who flew in and wrapped her arms around the smaller girl.

"Clary!" She exclaimed, then pulled out of the hug to link arms with the pair as they made their into school. "How are you, is your mom doing better?" Maia asked in a low voice, and Clary smiled; she knew that Simon had told her yesterday, and for once she didn't really mind people knowing her business.

"She's okay, she'll be out by tonight." She said softly to Maia, and the girls on either side of her squeezed her arm.

They had made it to the front of the school, and Maia was catching Clary up on everything that she had missed; but out of the corner of her eye, she could see people staring, looking at her. Or maybe she was just imagining it.

Maia was in the middle of telling Clary about her date with Jordan the previous evening when she saw him; Jace was standing next to the front door, leaning against a wall with a cigarette in his hand. And pressed against his lips was Kaelie.

"Eugh." Maia said as she caught sight of them. "You know, I was so glad when they broke up, Jace was actually likeable again. But this is just nasty…" Isabelle frowned.

"Tell me about it." She responded. She looked down at Clary; her large green eyes were fixed upon the pair, an unreadable expression resting within them.

"Yeah." Clary said, blinking away and looking at the ground. "Gross."

….

Izzy's head hit the desk with a resounding thud.

"I just don't get it!" She said with a huff. "How come I can paint my nails perfectly, but when I try to draw you it ends up looking like Ron Weasley?" She said, pulling a page from her sketchpad and tossing it in the trash; Clary laughed light heartedly at her friend. They had both put in a lot of effort to keep the tone light, especially since Isabelle had run into Kaelie, and they had spent the majority of their art class giggling at Simon's band's songs on Izzy's iPod.

"I think its… abstract?" Clary said comfortingly, bursting into laughter at Izzy's face. Isabelle huffed again, glaring at the girl opposite her.

"Let me see yours, then." Isabelle said with a pout, pulling Clary's sketchbook toward her; Clary tried to protest, embarrassed, but Isabelle already had it and was staring open mouthed at the picture.

It was Isabelle, soft lines of charcoal grey smudged carefully into paper; the girl in the picture was laughing, eyes crinkling and mouth wide, and her long glossy hair was fanned out around her.

"Wow." Izzy said, looking up at Clary who was rubbing her arm. "Clary, this is amazing! How come I've never seen any of your drawings before?" Clary shrugged, and Isabelle took it upon herself to begin to flick through the book. There were pages and pages of sketches, some tiny portraits, some objects that Isabelle recognised from Clary's apartment; there were pictures of Simon, grinning, Maia sitting at lunch, Alec and Magnus holding hands. There was even a life like drawing of Izzy's house, pillars and all. She flipped back to the page with her own face on it.

"What do you want to do after high school?" Izzy asked, handing back the book to a bemused Clary. She shrugged.

"I don't really know… I wanted to go to art school, maybe work as an illustrator? I don't know, sounds stupid." She finished. Izzy waved a hand.

"Sounds amazing, you'd do great at that." She said off hand, and Clary beamed.

"What are you gonna do, Iz?" She asked, opening her book to a new page and pulling out a pencil. Isabelle frowned.

"I don't know either. My dad wanted me to be a lawyer…" She said carefully. Clary smiled.

"But?" She said. Izzy sighed, picking up her pencil as well.

"I just really want to go to fashion school…" Izzy turned to Clary, a grin on her face. "When I was a kid I always wanted to go to Milan with my mom because she always brought back these amazing dresses…" She tailed off, her smile dropping. "As if though. I'm just useless."

Clary threw her pencil at her.

"Stop that; I think you could do that easily." Clary said. "I've never met anyone so determined." She looked not her friend's bright eyes and smiled. "I think you'd be good at it." She blushed, then looked back down at her sketch and began to rub at the edges. That was until the book was once again whipped away from her, but this time by a less familiar figure.

"Woah, wouldn't mind a copy of this, Izzy."

Clary looked round, following the sour look that crossed Izzy's face.

"Sebastian." Izzy said, and Clary flicked her eyes up to glance at the face above them. He was dressed the same as the day they had met, and his dark eyes flicked down to meet Clary's.

"Red." He said cheerfully, meeting down at the pair. "Did you draw this?" He asked in an almost obnoxious voice. Clary raised an eyebrow, unsure of how to respond to this person.

"Well, it is my name on the book…" She said carefully, watching Izzy's face slip from irritated to amused. "So I guess I did." She finished, reaching up to pluck the book from his hands with a smile. He smirked, shoving his hands into his back pockets.

"Right. Listen, Red, I was thinking- since you're new and all- we should go out some time, I can show you round." He said, then proceeded to sit down on the desk next to her, getting closer, and facing her with those piercingly black eyes. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, shooting Izzy a look and leaning back away from him.

"That's really nice of you to ask, Sebastian, but I'm pretty familiar with the city already-" She looked to Izzy. "- Iz has already showed me around. But thanks for the offer."

She tried to be as polite as possible, but she could still see the notable flicker as his facial expression strained to withhold his anger. He smiled, but it didn't touch his eyes.

"Another time then." He stood, but not before reaching down and snatching Clary's hand, slipping his own fingers in her clenched fist, then walking away, straight out of the room. Clary looked to Isabelle.

"Well, that was weird." She commented with a laugh, and Isabelle frowned.

"He's so sleazy it makes my skin crawl." Isabelle said, shuddering. "What did he give you?" She asked, and Clary recovered from her discomfort, unfurling her fist to find a small piece of paper where Sebastian's fingers had been. She scoffed a laugh.

"His number." She said, amused, and the pair simultaneously rolled their eyes as she shoved the crumpled note into her pocket, reminding herself to throw it in the trash later. The bell rang out loudly, startling Clary, and her and Izzy packed up to head to lunch.

"Okay, so I've developed a new plan." Isabelle said as they exited the class, looping her arm through Clary's. Clary grinned at their strange height difference and the odd looks that they were getting. "I'm going to follow my dad after work tomorrow, find out what's really going on." She finished, and Clary frowned.

"Is that such a good idea, Iz?" She asked, concerned. Isabelle tossed her hair with her free hand and grinned.

"I think it's an excellent idea." She said confidently, passing by a freshman who had stopped in his tracks to stare at her. "And I'm gonna need your help; Maia has extra calculus and Simon has band practise tomorrow." She looked imploringly down at her friend. Clary swallowed; getting tangled up in other people's messy lives wasn't something she had bargained for, however she had already found her own life intertwined with Izzy's, so what was one more foot over the line?

"Yeah… yeah, of course Iz, if that's what you want." She said encouragingly, looking up at her friend carefully. Izzy flashed her an almost morbid grin. They turned the corner to the cafeteria, and the pair caught sight of Maia and Simon in an animated discussion. Isabelle laughed at the pair and dragged Clary on. That is until Clary felt a sweeping blow to her side, knocking her to the ground, nearly pulling Izzy down with her. Clary grimaced as a sharp pain spread up her side but rolled over, catching a glimpse of Kaelie and one of her cackling friends; Kaelie caught her eye, winking, before disappearing around the corner. Clary grimaced.

"Wow there, short stuff." Simon called, reaching down and pulling Clary up by the armpits as Maia held onto Izzy, restraining her.

"I'm gonna kill that bitch, I swear." Isabelle spat; she looked to Clary who was standing beside her, Simon's arm around her, her face blank. "You okay, Clary? Ignore her, I don't know what her damage is." Isabelle said soothingly, patting Clary's shoulder and shrugging off Maia.

"Yeah…" Clary said, rubbing her arm. "C'mon, let's go to lunch."

…..

Lunch was an awkward affair; Alec and Magnus were wrapped up in each other, their heads bent close as they talked quietly. Izzy was overcompensating, talking loudly and brusquely in between unsubtle glances at her brother. Maia, Simon and Jordan were trying to keep up with the siblings, letting them talk over them when needed, and Clary was just watching the events unfold, checking her phone for messages from her mother.

And there was an empty seat where everyone had gotten used to being filled by Jace.

After the awkward lunch Clary spent the rest of the day with Izzy, her friend contemplating ways to spy on her parents, and Clary thinking of her mom. Kaelie pushed her two more times in the hall, the bruises forming luridly. She stayed late after school, talking as quietly as she could on the phone to her mother in the library as she finished her rolled over work from the previous few days. She finally ended her rocky, but happy, conversation with her mother and pulled out her chemistry books, taking a sip of water in order to keep her heated emotions in check.

"You're here late." Clary jumped, the sound of Jace's voice shocking her. He slipped into view, his golden hair falling into his eyes, an odd expression on his face. Clary coughed on her water then nodded, wiping her mouth.

"Yeah." She said, cursing her whispering voice. She coughed again. "Yeah… I've got… work." She said, looking down. He crossed to stand behind her, leaning over her to examine her work. She tried to stop herself from inwardly cringing. She could feel his breath.

"Need any help?" He asked. He hated himself for doing it, but he needed to. He had to be close to her… Clary looked up, catching his blazing golden eyes with her own, her eyes flickering across his face. The she remembered. She clammed up, looking back down at her work, the dull ache of her side reminding her.

"No. I'm sure Kaelie could use your help though." She said quietly, seething. She felt him exhale sharply, then he slid defeated into the chair next to her. She looked at him then, through the curtain of her hair.

"How'd you know?" He asked in a low voice. Clary grimaced.

"I saw you… this morning… I thought you'd moved on." She replied gruffly, unhappy that she cared so much. He wiped a hand dismally down his face.

"Just… please leave it Clary. Just… let it go…" He responded, staring at her. She shrugged.

"Fine. Consider it forgotten." She wrote down a mole calculation, unsure of whether or not it was right. She could feel his stare.

"You're judging me." He said, an almost-laugh in his voice. "That's not fair…" When she didn't reply he got frustrated. "You don't even know me." He spat, pushing her hair from her face; she flinched away from his wandering fingers.

"You're right." She said, pushing her chair back, scooping her books into her open bag and standing up. "I don't know you- and you don't know me." She turned on her heel then, marching out of the library. She could feel Jace following and sped up.

"Clary!" He heard her yell. "Clary, will you just stop!" He approached behind her, spinning her around and looking her in the eye. "Why are you so bothered by this?" He asked. She rolled her eyes, turning to leave again. He held onto her and she shook him off, seeing red.

"Don't touch me! God, Jace, do not touch me. Is that so hard to get? Stop gripping me and pulling me around like I'm a toy. I'm not a toy." She said, pushing his chest. He wavered, watching her.

"I'm sorry, damn it, I don't mean to…" He looked into her imploring eyes. "I just don't know how to act around you. And I'm sorry about Kaelie, you've got to believe me when I say there's a reason." He said. Clary laughed humourlessly.

"Jace. Listen to me- I hate being hurt. Hate it, I've had enough. So from now on, please stay away from me- and keep your girlfriend away." She spun and started to walk away again, Jace simply following on behind.

"Hurt? What do you mean, hurt? If I've upset you I'm sorry… I've said it. Don't cut me out now." He muttered, running a hand through his hair as they continued down the hallway.

"I mean Kaelie; if you two are close again, stop her from trying to bulldoze me in the halls." She said angrily, pushing through doors at a steady pace. She heard him falter.

"Bulldoze? Clary would you just look at me!" He growled, and Clary sighed, turning to him. He frowned. "Thanks." He muttered. "But what do you mean 'bulldoze'?" He finished, rubbing the back of his neck. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"She just… look, it doesn't matter okay? Just drop it." Clary said. But Jace shook his head.

"No- she's still getting at you? She promised-" He cut himself off. Clary looked at him curiously,

"Promised what?" She said, crossing her arms across her chest, feeling her bag swing against her sore side. She winced, and Jace noticed, giving up.

"She promised that if I got back with her she would leave you alone." He muttered, still rubbing his neck. Clary went white, emotions she was unsure of conflicting within her.

"You… what?" She spat. "You dated her to… to… stop her hurting me?" Clary looked down. "Do you think I'm that pathetic?" She whispered.

Jace narrowed his eyes.

"That's not what I think at all." He said quietly, watching her. Clary closed her eyes.

"Whatever. Just… please…" She said, her heart clenching.

"Clary." He began. "Don't start this." Clary opened her bright green eyes, her lethargy catching up to her and the feeling of resentment building up.

"I'm not starting anything, Jace. I'm ending it." She said sadly. "I wanted to be your friend but… I don't think I can. It's too hard." She said, looking at the ground.

Jace looked down at her downcast eyes, a hard set in his jaw.

"You're right." He said. "It is too hard." And with that he turned on his heel and walked away from her, the expanse of hall that stretched between them continuing in for a what felt like a thousand miles. It was only when he had turned a corner back into the library and his tall, angular frame was out of sight, that Clary let herself breathe again. Then she too walked away.

…

It was an awkward situation; Clary was sat at her tiny dining table with her mother, wrapped in a worn bathrobe and old pyjamas, and Luke who had picked Clary up unexpectedly from school. The pair had driven in an uncomfortable silence home, and Clary's mother had been asleep until Luke had called them both for dinner.

He hadn't ever been to their apartment before- not that Clary could remember- but he was determined to make himself comfortable and had surprised Clary by cooking one of the first meals in their kitchen in a long time. And now the trio were sat, Clary silently stirring the pasta around her plate whilst her mother smiled at Luke.

"How was school, Clary?" Her mother asked, and Clary tried to ignore the twist in her gut at the thought of the day's events.

"Good." Clary said carefully, looking down at her plate. She didn't see the look that passed between the two of them.

"You sure?" Jocelyn pushed, placing down her fork. Clary looked up into her mother's imploring eyes and nodded softly, plastering a small smile on her face.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Can I be excused? I have to call Izzy about some catch up work." Clary said, putting her fork down too and pushing back from the table. Her mother nodded at her slowly, and Clary stood; as an afterthought she turned to Luke, shooting him a small smile.

"Thanks for dinner, Luke. It was great." He gave her a surprised smile in return, then Clary left the room, leaving the pair behind.

She could hear them talking quietly as she left the room and wondered how things had ended up this way. There were bags in the hallway, bags she knew were Luke's, and the air between him and her mother was something that she was unfamiliar with. As she entered her room, sitting down on the bed that had been occupied by Jace not so long ago, and pulling out her homework.

But she couldn't concentrate; the events of the past few days kept swirling through her head, her mother's apology and Izzy's dilemma, visiting the hospital to find Luke there. Jace's parting words. And along with these memories came a flood of older ones…

….. she was eight. Or nine- old enough to talk back, but too young to know any better. And she was in her old home; Jonathon, her brother, was sat on the floor next to the bed they shared whilst Clary stretched out on the small mattress, a sketchpad and pencils strewn around her.

"What are you drawing, smalls?" Jonathon asked, pushing his homework from his lap and leaning onto the bed, kneeling beside the bed. Clary grinned at him.

"It's us!" She exclaimed happily, holding out the pad to her brother. The shapes were blurry and misshaped, but Jon grinned when he saw the outline of himself next to his sister; she had drawn him grotesquely tall with a shock of yellow hair, a keyboard next to him with the keys all different sizes. And beside him, holding his glove of a hand, was Clary, whose self-portrait had huge green eyes like his, and long scarlet hair.

"Would you look at that- it's like looking in a mirror!" He joked, and Clary giggled at him, snatching back the pad to scrawl their names onto the bottom of the drawing. She ripped it out and knelt up on the bed to tack it to the wall with the rest of her scribbles. Jonathon looked at the picture left on the pad. It was three girls- he assumed- with angry red eyes and frowns the size of their faces, all dressed in black.

"Who's this?" He asked, pulling the sketchbook toward him. Clary turned to look at the drawing and frowned too, slumping down on the bed.

"They're in my class." She said quietly. Jon looked at his sister's face, the map of freckles across her porcelain face.

"Are they your friends?" He asked again, knowing full well that they weren't. Clary shook her head fiercely, her mane of hair flying around her face.

"No! Those are the mean girls. They say my clothes are funny and they put paint in my hair." Clary said, small pricks of tears welling in her eyes. "Miss says to ignore them, but they shout at me in the playground all the time, saying that I'm too clumsy because of all the scratches on me- but I never once told Jonny, I promise." She finished. Jonathon was livid- how could kids be so harsh? But mostly he was angry at himself- why couldn't he be man enough to just leave already, get his family out of the cess pit they lived in. It was his fault that Clary had hand me downs, and his fault that she went to school with all these marks on her. He wasn't brave enough to beat his own father down every time he laid a hand on his sister. The puckered marks across her arms and legs told the harsh story of their family, and every time his mother insisted Clary wear long clothes he felt sick to his stomach.

"Next time I pick you up from school, you tell me who they are. I'll make sure they leave you alone." Jon said, shuffling up to pull his sister into his lap and rock her gently. He was so much older than her, knew so much more. He could leave if he wanted, just run away. But he would never leave his family.

"Jonathon." A voice startled the pair, and Jonathon and Clary looked over to see their father standing in the door way. Immediately Jonathon placed Clary down, sniffling, and stood up, blocking Clary from their father's view. Their father slurred, stumbling into the door frame.

"Where's your mother, Jonathon? Huh?" Jon didn't answer, and Clary watched as her brother approached their father, ready to once again carry him to bed- or get knocked out trying.

"Answer me, boy! Where is that filthy, good for nothing whore?" Jonathon bit his lip to stop from yelling, and pulled his father from the room, shutting the door quickly behind him.

Through the thin wood Clary could hear the yells of her father, and when the first sickening blow was heard she put her hands over her ears and crawled under the covers. If she was lucky Jon would be back soon. If she wasn't, Valentine would tumble back through her door.

The next day, after school, Jon came to pick up Clary, sitting her on the handlebars of his bike. His black eye was on full show, arms bare bruised and muscles flexed, and even Clary had to admit that he scared her a little, his green eyes dark in the West Coast gloom.

The girls in her class never bothered her again. Her father on the other hand, was a different story….

Clary shook herself from her reverie, not even realising the tears that had begun to stream down her face. There was a sickening, unbearable twist of grief in her chest that worked its way up into her throat. She clutched at her chest, choking back a sob as waves and waves of excruciating sadness overwhelmed her. Her brother would know what to do; he would know how to help their mom, how to help Izzy. He would make her feel safe. And knowing that she would never speak to him again tore her apart inside.

…

The next morning Clary woke up to silence; waking herself up and getting ready for school was easy, but she braced herself before pushing open her mother's door; finding her in there with Luke was not something that she was ready for.

"Mom." She whispered warily into the room. The watery sun filtering into the room illuminated her mother's single sleeping figure and she sighed thankfully. She whispered a brief good bye, making sure to leave a note on the counter, then made her way down the stairs.

"Clarissa!"

Clary stopped in her tracks. No one called her that… not anymore…

Whipping around she could almost feel her heart skip a beat, however instead of the face she was expecting to see, she was met with the face of Dorathea, her elderly, if not senile, neighbour. She was standing outside of her own apartment, waving an envelope in her hand.

"This letter came for you- I took the liberty of retrieving it from the mail man for you. You're welcome." The lady said, looking slyly over her gold rimmed half-moon glasses. "You can thank me the next time I need some milk."

Clary, extremely startled by this lady's openness, grabbed the letter from her hand with some muttered thanks and ran down the stairs, shoving the letter into her bag without a second thought.

Izzy was waiting in her car when Clary made her way onto the street, and already Clary could feel the tension.

"Okay." Isabelle said, straight to business. Clary strapped herself in as the car started moving and turned to face her friend. "Here's the plan; I got Alec to call my dad and he's planning on going to some meeting with his work buddies tonight." Isabelle said. Clary nodded, but frowned.

"Well… that doesn't sound too suspicious." Clary said thoughtfully. Isabelle scoffed.

"That's what I thought- but then I called my dad's buddy Mal and he said that they hadn't made plans in a long time. I fact he hasn't seen my dad in six months." Isabelle said angrily. Clary looked up, confused. Isabelle sighed again.

"Two months ago, my dad went on a vacation for a week. And he said it was with Mal."

"Oh." Clary said, then realisation struck her. "Oh! Izzy… what are we gonna do?" She said worriedly. Isabelle grinned.

"We're gonna follow him to wherever he's going and find out if he's really cheating. Because there's no way I'm letting this go, not when he's messing with our family." She finished with a huff, braking way too hard at a red stoplight. "Speaking of family, how's your mom?"

Clary smiled lightly, but there was still a churn in the pit of her stomach.

"She's good. Better, I mean; we seem to have come to a silent agreement that I'm okay with Luke though because he picked me up from school yesterday and stayed for dinner." She said tiredly, and Isabelle laughed despite herself.

"That must've been awkward, after your hospital show down and all." Isabelle said sand Clary groaned, tucking herself further into her seat as they approached the school.

"Don't remind me; I feel so bad about that. My mom did so much for me…"

"She still lied Clary. You're a kid, you're allowed to be mad at your mom. It's what we do best." Isabelle said, patting Clary's hand. "But if it gets too awkward just come and stay with me- God knows we have enough empty rooms at the minute."

Clary smiled lightly and unbuckled her belt as they pulled into the parking lot, but before she could get out Maia opened the back door and scrambled into the back seat.

"No one get out!" She yelled, slamming the door shut behind her and leaning between the front seats. "There's a huge fight out there and there is no way we are getting involved." Clary craned her neck to try and see out the window and Isabelle made a disgruntled noise.

"Why would we get involved- oh. Great; it's Jace isn't it?" Isabelle huffed. Maia rolled her eyes, running a hand through her curled hair.

"And Jordan. And I think maybe Alec." Isabelle shot up in her seat.

"Alec? What the hell are they all fighting about?"

"Sebastian. I think he said something to Magnus." Maia replied. Clary frowned.

"Like what?" She asked, and Maia grimaced.

"Like something way too 1950's for polite millennial conversation." She replied twisting her hands. Clary looked at Isabelle who was visibly upset.

"What a jerk." She muttered. Isabelle nodded.

"Yeah. And now both my brothers and Maia's boyfriend are gonna get in trouble, and I doubt anything will happen to Verlac. I swear he gets away with everything, he is such a dirtbag." Isabelle said, pulling her bag from the backseat, nearly smacking Maia, and pushing the car door open.

"Oh no." Maia said.

"Agreed." Clary replied, the pair hastily climbing from the car and setting off after Isabelle's quick pace. Already Clary could hear the sound of a fight; there were people shouting, the sound of lots of voices, and the occasional loud thump.

"Izzy!" She yelled, her legs too short to catch up. "Stop!"

"Clary! What's going on?" Clary turned, leaving Maia to chase after Izzy, and came face to face with Simon, a worried look etched upon his face and a scruffy band tee rumpled by his backpack.

"There's a fight, and I think Izzy is about to get involved." Clary said worriedly, chewing on her lip. Simon remained looking confused, so she grabbed his hand and began to haul him in the direction Isabelle had sauntered in, and as they crossed into the main courtyard the fight came into view.

Jordan was standing a few metres away, yelling at freshman to clear out whilst one of his football buddies kept a crowd from forming. Maia had a hold of Isabelle's arm, dragging her away from the fight. And in the middle was Jace, squared up to Sebastian, his face icy and blank. Alec stood beside him, and for the first time that day Clary felt fear shoot through her at the murderous look Alec was giving Sebastian. It became apparent that none of the group were shouting, it was just Jordan and disgruntled lower-classmen, angry that they couldn't see a fight go down.

Clary let go of Simon's hand, who had stopped in his tracks to assess the situation, and made her way toward Isabelle who was doing her fair share of shouting, telling Maia to let her go. She ran up to the pair, dropping her gab to the ground, and looped her arm through Isabelle's.

"Iz. Don't get involved." She hissed, looking around to see if there were any teachers approaching yet. "You said it yourself, you'll just get in more trouble."  
Isabelle pulled against her hard and Clary nearly felt herself fall. There was an anger in Isabelle's face; Clary realised that this must be hard for her, her brother victimised, her family falling apart. But getting in trouble for a fight that wasn't her fault wouldn't help anything.

"Guys, c'mon." Isabelle spat, shaking off the pair. She broke free and headed off toward the fight and Maia cursed, following Clary into the fight.

"Listen up, Verlac." Izzy said, charging in between her brothers. Alec tried to pull her back but she shoved him away, getting in Sebastian's face and pointing a finger at him. "You stay away from my family, okay? Just pretend we don't exist, and we'll gladly do the same for you."

She crossed her arms over her chest. But Sebastian wasn't fazed, and one of his friends behind him laughed.

"Or what, babe? In case you didn't notice it was your fag brother that came up to me, and Herondale started this. So you might want to watch where you point that pretty little finger."

Izzy lost it, throwing back her hand and slapping Sebastian hard. Clary groaned and ran forward, only to step back in shock as Sebastian roared and pushed Isabelle backward into Clary and Maia. Clary stumbled, barely catching Izzy, and caught her breath as Jace lunged forward, punching Sebastian hard. She felt a scream rising within her as the chaos began to unfold; Alec flung himself forward and grabbed Jace, pulling him back hard.

"Don't ever touch my sister again, or you'll regret it." Were Jace's words, but they could barely be heard over the jeers of the crowd that had formed when Simon and Jordan had given up crowd control and rushed into the scene. Jordan had pushed Maia away and Simon had an arm around Isabelle. Jace was now being pulled away by Alec, and Sebastian was being held back by one of his friends. That is until Clary saw a murderous glint in his black eyes and watched him pull away and run at Jace. No one was watching. No one could see him coming.

And then Clary was floating, like her body wasn't her own. Without thinking she stepped out in front of Isabelle, in front of Simon and Jordan. In front of Jace. And she yelled, as loudly as she could as Sebastian's huge body barrelled into hers. Knocking her to the ground with him on top. She had used all the strength her tiny body could muster to push him back, to make sure that he couldn't get to her friends.

She heard someone scream. She saw the sky above her head burn red and black, then fade back to the normal northern grey. Then she felt a huge crushing weight lift from her chest, and the ringing in her ears got louder.

"Ouch." She said, trying to sit up. She felt someone's hand on her shoulder pushing her down again and she groaned. The familiar ache of growing bruises began to blossom, and the throb in her head added to the ringing.

"Hey, you're okay. Just stay down for a second." Isabelle's voice could be heard. The sound of the crowd was gone, and now she could only hear a few voiced. She opened her eyes again and looked up to see Izzy's face, her brows knitted. Simon was also sat beside her.

"Should we call an ambulance?" Simon said to someone next to Isabelle. This got Clary's attention.

She forced herself upright, ignoring the ringing and fighting Isabelle's hand, shaking her off.

"I'm fine." She said slowly, and she could hear the slur in her own voice.

"Clary-" Simon began and Clary hushed him.

"Please, guys. No ambulance." She said slowly. "I'm good."

"Clary, you were rammed down by a 200-pound sack of meat. That is nowhere near good." Isabelle said, helping to pull Clary to her feet when it became apparent that she wasn't giving up.

"I've had worse, just forget it." Clary said brushing herself off, holding back a hiss of pain and trying not to pass out again. The pain in her head was fading now, and she knew from experience that in an hour she would be fine again.

Simon and Isabelle shared a concerned look over their friend, watching as the small red head brushed herself off woozily and looked around.

All the crowds were gone- only Maia and Jordan remained close by talking in hushed tones, and a little way from the trio stood Alec and Jace, who were also talking quietly.

"What happened?" Clary asked, confused. Where had everybody gone? Isabelle sighed, wrapping an arm around her small friend.

"That dick came out of nowhere- and then you, mad woman, you came out of nowhere too! Just stepped in front of him. You basically got knocked down with as much force as could knock down Jace… which is why I'm still thinking you should take a trip to the hospital…" Isabelle finished, but Clary just shook her head firmly.

"Where's Sebastian now?" She said carefully, looking around as though he might appear out of nowhere. Isabelle scoffed.

"He ran off the second Jace had a hold of him. Honestly, I haven't seen Jace that mad in a long time- I thought he was gonna kill Verlac for a minute." Isabelle said. Clary grimaced.

"I should probably thank him…" Clary said sullenly. Simon laughed, and Clary turned to look at him.

"He should be thanking you- even though you were beyond stupid, short stuff, you technically saved him from being blindsided by the not-so-incredible hulk. Besides, he's already gone."

Clary turned in surprise- sure enough Alec and Jace were gone, and the only proof there had ever been a fight was the small trickle of blood on Clary's forehead. She sighed.

"Okay." Clary said. "Let's go to class."

…

"You were a total badass." Aline said calmly over her chicken salad. "I mean, I wish I had seen it, but everyone has been talking about it. Love that."

Clary groaned and put her arms over her head on the lunch table. All anyone had been talking to her about all day was the fight, and in all honesty, she didn't even know how the damn thing had started. She only stepped in to save… help Jace. Jace. The guy who was avoiding her like the plague.

"It wasn't that cool, Aline. It was mostly an accident." Clary muttered, peeking over her hands. Aline laughed.

"I wish my accidents were that exciting. How's your head?" She asked. Clary shrugged; her head was hurting, but only dully and in the background. Her day had been too busy to even think about it- she had handed in an intense amount of make up work, all whilst avoiding curious gazes of strangers around the school.

"Clary." Clary turned around in her seat. Behind her was Magnus, someone who she liked but who barely spoke to her alone. He was standing, tight leather pants and all, his hand on his neck. He sat down next to her, facing away from the table and shielding her from the prying eyes of their friends to keep their conversation semi private. "Look, I know that Izzy got hurt as well, but I can totally just text her any time. But I wanted to thank you, and make sure you were okay. The whole fight was over me, and I'm so sorry you got hurt." His eyes flicked up to the purpling bruise on Clary's temple, and he frowned.

Clary leaned in closer, patting his arm gently.

"Don't even worry about it, Magnus. It was nothing."

Magnus looked at his lap, twisting his hands.

"No. No, it is something. You barely know us, biscuit, but you still were willing to step into the ring to help us out. We're like family here. Alec, Jace- they're family. And what you did…" He looked at her with watery green eyes. "Thank you."

Clary tipped her head, unsure of what to do. But taking a leaf out of Izzy's book she pulled him in for a hug, patting his back lightly and averting her gaze from the other's round the table. She smiled lightly.

"Any time. Seriously, I know good people. And you're it. I'll stand up for that any day." Clary said, then pulled back. Already Magnus' face was pulled back into a defiant gaze, any trace of the vulnerability gone. He stood up, patting Clary on the shoulder, and walked back out of the cafeteria, probably looking for Alec. Clary turned back to the table where Isabelle was showing some of her most recent sketches to Maia, the pair ignoring Simon and Jordan's occasional snickers and Aline's mirthless laughter. She watched the people that had become her friends. And she smiled.

…

The end of the day came quickly, and Clary was thankful when the bell rang for the end of her last lesson. But her drama wasn't over, because the second that she was out of class Isabelle had her arm hooked around Clary's and was dragging her out of the door.

"C'mon! We have to be quick, my dad's apparently leaving at 5pm and it takes an hour to get to his office." Isabelle said in a hurry, pulling Clary along even faster. Maia waved goodbye at the pair as they flew out of the entrance, and Clary tried not to trip as they made it to Izzy's car. The pair rushed in and Isabelle barely gave Clary time to buckle up before they were on the road.

"Phew." Izzy said, relaxing back into her seat.

"I think I left my stomach back there." Clary said, huffing back into her chair and trying to catch her breath.

"Oh don't be so dramatic." Isabelle replied.

"I'm serious. It's gone, I can feel it." Clary laughed, turning to grin at Izzy who was rolling her eyes. But the smile didn't last long.

"Did Jace come and talk to you today?" Izzy said to her, and Clary frowned.

"No." She said quietly. "Magnus did though. He seemed… emotional." Clary said, running a hand through her tangled hair. Isabelle nodded.

"He would be." Isabelle said, and Clary looked up curiously. "Look, Magnus and Alec, they're the first openly gay couple ever at our school. But Magnus was out way before Alec, and he used to get a lot of shit. People would push him down in the halls, he got beat up at least three times in his first year." Clary sighed. People could be cruel. "His mom left when he came out. Then his dad kicked him out. He lived in our spare room for a while."

Clary listened in rapt attention; this was why he was so emotional over the fight. He had been through hell.

"But then his rich uncle died and left him this amazing apartment and all this cash in his name, and Alec came out of the closet and became co-captain of the football team. Life got better. But he's touchy about homophobia, rightly so, and really touchy about violence. His dad wasn't a nice guy." Isabelle finished, glancing over at Clary.

Clary sighed. They had more in common than she realised.

"Well, I'm glad that you kicked his ass then." Clary said, and Isabelle sighed. Clary glanced over at her.

"Hey, I know I got knocked down and all, but are you okay? He shoved you pretty hard." Clary said, and Izzy waved a hand.

"I'm fine. Seriously, it's only because of these 4-inch heels that I tripped. If I had been in my spin class gear I totally could've taken him on." Isabelle spat, and Clary laughed.

"I'd pay to see that." Clary said, pulling a knee up to her chest. "Was Alec okay?" She asked; Alec had disappeared for the rest of the day and hadn't been seen by the group. Isabelle glanced at her.

"Yeah, he's okay, Jace took care of it. He really didn't go and find you? He was asking everyone about you all day." Isabelle said, her brows knitted together. Clary looked up.

"He was asking about me?" She said. Izzy nodded. "He never said a word to me." She finished quietly.

They were interrupted by Clary's phone ringing. She glanced at the ID and picked it up quickly, putting it to her ear.

"Hi, Mom." She breathed.

"Clary." Her mother's voice sounded relieved. "Where are you?" She said, and Clary felt a twist in her gut.

"I'm so sorry- I'm with Izzy. I forgot to mention I was going out with her." Clary said quickly, running a hand through her hair. He mom laughed gently.

"It's okay, Clary. Just… make sure you let me know. Text me!" She said, and they both laughed at the absurdity. "I just need to know Clary. That's all."

Clary smiled lightly, knowing that it had taken years for her mother to be comfortable enough to let Clary out of her sight.

"Okay Mom. I will, Izzy will drop me home later." She said.

"I promise, Jocelyn, she'll be home by ten!" Isabelle shouted, and Clary's mom laughed lightly.

"Okay, dear. Love you."

"Love you too, mom." Clary said, ending the call. She let out a long breath.

"You good?" Izzy asked, and Clary nodded.

"Yeah. Just… she gets nervous." Clary said. Izzy nodded; with all the things that had happened to Clary and her mom since they had moved to the neighbourhood it would have been surprising if her mom didn't get nervous. They were constantly facing new trauma, and it was something that Izzy admired Clary for. "How long now?" Clary asked her, glancing anxiously at the clock on the dashboard.

"Not long- we'll wait in the carpark at his work and watch his car. Then we follow him."

Clary nodded.

"Look, Izzy, we don't have to do this. We could just go home…" Clary said, but Izzy just shook her head in response.

"I have to know Clary. I know it's stupid but… I just need to know what broke up my parents. If it was someone's fault." Izzy's eyes were fixed on the road, but her hard gaze was tell-tale that she was upset.

"Okay. I just don't want you to hurt yourself more- but if it gets too much we can turn back. Any time." Clary said, watching her friend closely.

"We're here!" Isabelle broke the silence, turning way too fast into an underground parking lot that Clary would never have noticed. There was no ticket barrier, and the name of the firm was printed in gleaming letters over the entrance. "We just have to wait over here; that's my dad's spot over there, you can see his name plate. And his car is still here, which means we made it!" Izzy continued with a desperate enthusiasm.

"Do you really think he's sneaking off?" Clary asked, and Isabelle nodded her head vigorously.

"You know, we barely ever see him. Even when Max is home he still works through his visits, which sucks because Max used to idol worship him beyond belief, and I used to think that we were doing something wrong…" Isabelle tailed off, staring blankly at her father's car from their parked space. "Alec said he was on the phone to someone named Jia." Isabelle said, and Clary looped her arm through Izzy's, squeezing lightly and trying to shake her from her reverie. Isabelle sighed.

"And it would really suck if he was talking to Jia, because that's Mom's best friend… and Aline's mom." Isabelle finished, and Clary sighed too. This was how life worked; when you make friends, or fall in love, everyone in your life becomes intertwined. And if you cut one person out, the whole house of cards falls apart.

"There he is!" Isabelle suddenly hissed, dropping down low in her seat, hiding despite the fact they were too far to be spotted. She watched as he father climbed into his car and turned on the lights. Clary was struck by how similar Izzy's father looked to her and Alec. It was eerie.

The second that her dad was out of the parking lot Isabelle sped on her way out after him. Clary had to slam back in her seat to avoid the whiplash, and before long they were following the shiny black car through the evening traffic.

"Won't your dad would recognise the car?" Clary said suddenly, the thought coming to her. Isabelle laughed.

"As if. He can barely remember what colour my hair is anymore. Damn- I took the wrong turning." Izzy jerked the wheel to the right, and Clary yelled out as they turned sharply into the righthand lane, and once again she wished that she had walked home.

"Careful!" Clary said, hanging on to the seat as her stomach turned. Isabelle rolled her eyes.

"Oh hush, we're fine now. Hey…" She trailed off as they made another turn into a quieter street. "Oh shit." She said again, and Clary looked up.

"What?" She asked, and Isabelle just leaned forward, pulled over, and turned off the engine. Clary looked around at the tall houses and apartment blocks around them, extremely confused.

"Why have we stopped? Do you want to turn back…" Clary asked, worried about her friend. Isabelle shook her head and pulled out her phone, opening the camera. Clary sat silently and watched as Izzy began to film, and outside the scene began to make sense. Izzy must have recognised the street as now her dad's car had turned around and was parked on the opposite side of the street. Robert Lightwood exited his car, and one of the front doors of the large houses opened to reveal a woman in her mid forties, with short brown hair, opening her arms to greet him. Izzy's dad jogged to meet her, and Izzy bit her tongue as they kissed, then disappeared behind the closed door. She shut off her phone.

"There it is." Izzy said sombrely. Clary watched helplessly as Izzy's eyes filled with tears, and she angrily wiped them away. She leaned across the console and hugged Izzy, letting her be vulnerable for once. Then she leant back and re did her seat belt.

"Let's go home." Clary said.

….

By the time they reached Izzy's house both of the pair were calmer; Clary had called Simon and Maia and the pair had promised to be at Izzy's house waiting, with pizza at Isabelle's request, and when they pulled into the Lightwood's enormous driveway Isabelle was calm.

"Thanks for coming with me." Isabelle said as they climbed from the car. "Today must've seemed so dramatic."

Clary just shrugged as they made their way into the house, the smell of pizza wafting from the open door, the sound of voices emanating from the kitchen.

"Izzy, honestly, I was glad to. You've done so much for me and my problems, I'm just glad that I could help, even though you didn't see what you wanted to." Clary finished, and Isabelle smiled.

"Okay, enough of this now! I'm starving."

There were a chorus of hello's as the pair entered the kitchen. Simon, Alec and Magnus were standing at the breakfast bar, and Maia was sat on the counter behind them munching on a slice of pizza. Jace was sat smoking by the window, a surly look on his face. Clary caught his eye as she entered, remembering their argument from yesterday and the way he had looked at her. She hated herself for feeling this way, but she knew now that she had to. He couldn't be trusted.

"You okay, biscuit?"

Magnus' voice broke her train of thought and she smiled at him, dumping her bag on the floor beside the table and moving to stand next to Maia, who ruffled her hair with greasy fingers.

"What happened?" Alec asked, standing next to his sister. Everyone was quiet to listen.

"He cheated." Isabelle said, and Clary could almost see her chest tighten. "With Jia Penhallow. Clary and I followed Dad after school, and the second that we turned into Mayweather I knew where he was going. You were right Alec." She said, taking a huge bite of pizza and frowning. Magnus wrapped an arm around Alec and Maia swallowed hard.

"Jia? As in, Aline's mom?" Maia said, and Simon sat his head against the counter groaning.

"It's like a soap opera." He groaned, and everyone jumped as the kitchen window slammed shut. Jace had stood up and was standing behind Isabelle. She glanced up at him, and for the first time Clary saw them bond as siblings as he wrapped an arm around her, hugging him for a minute. Then she pushed him off.

"You stink, seriously you need to stop smoking. You cramp my style." Isabelle said with a laugh, obviously trying to change the subject. Everyone laughed, and it seemed to be collectively decided that they would forget about the topic. Magnus looked up.

"How's the hand, Jace. Didn't break it on Verlac's thick skull?" He said, and everyone laughed again.

"Barely." Jace replied, eating a slice of pizza. "Wish I'd gotten more than one hit in, I swear." He said darkly, ruffling Izzy's hair. She swatted him away, but then he caught Clary's eye again. They were too intense, but Clary didn't look away.

"Thanks, by the way." He said clearly, and the rest of the people in the room watched the exchange. "For stepping in. I hope…" He trailed off. "He didn't hurt you." He finished, and Clary swallowed.

"I'm fine. All good- I'm just glad I didn't see him today." Clary said quietly. Maia made a noise.

"I didn't see him today either… I wonder where he went." She said, and Magnus laughed loudly. "What?" Maia said.

"He's embarrassed." Said Alec, grinning too. He looked to Clary and grinned wider. "He's mad that some four-foot girl managed to stop is rampage." He said, and Clary laughed indignantly.

"Hey! I'm five foot three…" She argued, laughing. And then she stopped herself as she usually did. It felt unusual to laugh with people, it felt foreign to her. But she liked it a lot.

"Sure you are, Clary. I'm pretty sure I'm double your height." Simon scoffed, everyone laughing with him. He moved to stand beside her, comparing their heights, and Maia roared with laughter when Clary tried to stand on the tip of her toes to smack his head.

The rest of the evening went quickly, and after a while Simon left, Magnus and Alec heading out to see a movie. Just the girls were left in the kitchen, and they were playing cards around the table.

"Hey, is that your bag Clary?" Maia asked, looking at the spilled contents on the floor. Clary cursed and went to pick her things up, the girls helping her.

"What's this-did you get detention?" Isabelle asked gleefully about the white letter Clary had forgotten about. She laughed at the memory.

"Oh, it's not from school." She said, packing her pencils back into the bag. "It's just some mail, but my creepy neighbour got it from the mail man. I'm guessing she probably forced it from his hands." She said, and Maia laughed. Izzy, however, frowned at the letter.

"From the mailman?" She asked, and Clary nodded. Isabelle frowned more.

"What's up?" Maia asked.

"There's no stamp, or address on it. This wasn't in the mail." Isabelle said, glancing up at Clary. She looked at the letter, confused.

"Maybe… maybe it's from Dorathea then… she is a bit mad." Clary said, taking the letter. She hadn't bothered looking at the letter earlier, but Izzy was right. There was just her new name, 'CLARY FRAY' written in bold on the front. She slid her finger under the lip and opened the top. She could feel paper inside, so it was something. She slid the contents out into her hand. But it wasn't a letter.

A handful of paper fell from the envelope, and Clary wasn't expecting it, so she watched as they slid from her grasp and scattered across the floor.

"Did you send off a digital camera or something." Maia asked, picking up one of them and turning it over. Clary blanched.

Scattered across her best friend's kitchen floor were a dozen photographs, all of her. Her head went foggy as Maia picked up another, turning it over, and she watched as if she weren't in her own body. This wasn't possible…

"What the hell…" Maia said. The picture was of Clary… but taken through her bedroom window from the street below. Clary unfroze.

"Stop!" She yelled, and Izzy stood up and hugged Clary. It was only then that Clary realised that she was shaking. "Don't touch them!" She said again, and Maia sprung up, clearly frightened.

"What's going on?" A voice came from the door, and Clary turned in Isabelle's grasp to see Jace entering the room. She watched him take in the images on the floor- some were upright, some face down. But it was too much.

"Where's my phone." Clary said.

"Clary… what the hell is going on?" Maia repeated Jace's words, but Isabelle just handed Clary her phone from the kitchen table.

"No one touch those." Clary said cautiously whilst dialling the number, holding the ringing phone up to her ear. Her mother's voice rang through the phone.

"Clary?" She said. "What's wrong?" Clary pictured her mother panicking and did her best to keep her voice calm. She knew that what she was about to say could change everything again, but she had to warn her mother.

"Mom, I really need you to listen to me. Go and stay with Luke tonight out of the apartment. I'll explain everything later but just…please. Just for tonight go anywhere else. I'm safe where I am, I'm with Izzy."

"Clary… is this…" Jocelyn asked quietly, but Clary cut her off.

"I don't know yet, but please for once let me protect you. I'll call you later." She hung up the phone. Her mom would listen to that- they had had scared before, and although she hated it, her mom would listen.

"Will someone please explain to me why there's a sea of pictures on our kitchen floor?" Jace asked, arms folded over his chest Isabelle looked at Clary as if she were really seeing her for the first time, and Maia was sat on the kitchen table, staring at the mess.

Clary took a deep breath.

Here we go again…


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: While you read this I encourage you to think of the Doctor Who episode 'Blink' in which a man sits in front of a television screaming 'just go to the police you stupid woman, why doesn't anyone ever just go to the police!"**

 **The answer is, this is far more interesting.**

 **Stick with me- I've only just gotten started. Read, review, and enjoy- and let me know what you think!**

The wind outside was roaring, rattling the shutters against the window and making the tension in the room build even further, and Clary instinctively wrapped her arms around herself to warm up. The other three in the room were staring at her, watching her every movement. She hated it.

For once, she just wanted to be Clary; the girl who liked art and loved the rain, the girl who lived with her mom in their run-down apartment. She just wanted to be normal, but she knew that she wasn't. Maia stood up from the table.

"Clary… what is going on. These pictures… it's obvious you had no idea they were being taken." She said shakily, and Clary could feel the blood running from her face, could feel the tingle in her fingers. She sighed, running a hand down her face.

"You can't tell anyone." She said quietly. Isabelle swiftly moved to her side, touching her arm.

"What is it?" Isabelle asked. Clary looked up at her, let herself pretend it was just her and Izzy in her bedroom.

"I just want… I know it sounds crazy but it's fine, I know how to deal with it." Clary said firmly, knowing it was inappropriate to fake a smile. She moved quickly onto her knees and scooped up the photos, depositing them back in the envelope and shoving it in her bag again, brushing tendrils of curling hair from her face. Everyone was silent.

"I'm serious, it's fine." Clary said, the list of things that she needed to do already building in her head. She was interrupted by Jace.

"Obviously it's not fine. Seriously Clary, you always do this. You did it that night in the alley-"

"Jace!" Izzy interrupted angrily, and Maia looked confused.

"Night in the alley?" She questioned, but Jace kept going.

"And you did it again today, not letting us take you to the hospital…" Clary saw red, cutting him off. The look on his face was cold, closed and unyielding, but she had had enough of being lectured over her choices.

"Us?" She laughed angrily. "You didn't speak to me all day Jace, so don't pretend to care now. Just forget it, okay, it's none of your damn business." Her face was burning, she could feel it, and Isabelle and Maia were watching them silently. There was a confused look on Izzy's face and Jace's eyes narrowed, and for a minute Clary swore that they were more black than gold.

"Don't, Clary. You're the one that told me to stay away from you, I was just doing what you asked. But now I am talking to you, and you're gonna listen, because you're gonna get yourself hurt and I can't watch you do that. I won't." He said, disdain and something else colouring his tone. Clary glared as she tried to interrupt.

"I'm calling the cops. Obviously there is some creep stalking you, you need help." He reached to pull his phone from his pocket and Clary yelled in response, panic colouring her tone at the thought of the cops getting involved. No way was she letting that happen again.

"Don't you dare Jace!" She said desperately, but her voice broke at the end. The panic was growing, sizzling hot in her chest, making her choke. "You don't get it."

Jace took a step closer to her, and so did Izzy.

"Stop it Jace!" She shouted at him, rubbing Clary's arm. "You're just making things worse."

Jace scoffed.

"We need the cops, Iz. What if someone's trying to hurt her?" He said, frustrated, rubbing a hand through his hair and looking up. He saw Clary's determined look. "Why won't you let us help? Do you not get how serious this is?" He growled.

"I've done this before!" Clary yelled back, and once again everything in the room stopped. Jace furrowed his brow, confused, and Isabelle's eye's widened. "I've… I've done this before." Her breathing evened out and she put her head in her hands, trying not to think about it.

"I know how to deal with this… I know you guys wouldn't understand, I get that I sound crazy. But this has happened twice before, and I dealt with it then." She said into her hands, then felt a warm pair of arms wrap around her.

"Clary." Isabelle said quietly. "Please… let us help you."

Clary looked up sadly, her panicked eyes wide and her pupils small. She ran a hand through her hair.

"I don't think you can." She said, keeping an eye on Jace. He had shoved his hands into his pockets, looking down, unmoving.

"I can." Maia said. She sat down at the table, pulled out her phone, and started typing. "You've done this before?" She said calmly, and Clary nodded. "You don't have to tell us who it is, but I'm guessing you're hiding from someone, someone who likes to mess with you." Maia asked, and Clary nodded, unsure.

"How did you… how do you know that?" Clary asked, and Maia rolled her eyes. Clary was taken aback.

"My stalker's name was Daniel. He was my older brother and he loved to mess with my head." She said bluntly. "But I dealt with it, and I can help you deal with your mess. I get the whole no cops thing- how was I meant to explain that my family was hurting me?" Clary's eyes widened at this, knowing the feeling. "Look, I have a friend, Bat, and he can check your apartment for cameras, he can check for security risks, if you like? He does it for a living." She said, and Clary swallowed hard.

"That… I would appreciate it." Clary said quietly, ashamed of her outburst. "I'm going home in a minute… I have to change the locks."

Isabelle sighed loudly and asked Maia to come with her under the pretence of getting her help to get her room ready, but in reality Isabelle wanted to know who Bat was. And she wanted to be out of the room so that Jace could say whatever he was holding back knowing it was something for Clary only to hear. Maia tried to protest as she was dragged from the room, and Clary watched the pair leave helplessly.

She turned to face Jace as the kitchen door closed.

"Please," She said, looking to the ground. "I know you don't get it, I know you think I'm pathetic and weak and…" She stopped as Jace looked up, his eyes boring into hers.

"Stop saying that Clary. I just…" He threw his arms up, stepping closer to Clary. So close she could feel the heat from his chest. He was looking down at her now. "I don't know how to act around you, you're so different. You make me crazy, because all I want to do is protect you, but you won't let me." He said roughly, watching her. Clary swallowed her unease, looking down again.

"We… barely know each other. I don't understand why you want to help me, all I've done is make your life a misery." She said blankly. She looked up, surprised, when she felt his hand reach out and tentatively touch her, stroking a stray lock of hair from her face, and she instinctively flinched.

"I care about you. Izzy cares about you, and god damn if I don't hate myself for it, but I think about you all the time. I don't get how you can be so calm when all this shit keeps happening. And I don't get how you flinch when people touch you, but you let yourself get pummelled by some Neanderthal to protect me." He finished, and Clary clenched her fists.

"Jace." She said, and he ran a hand through his hair again.

"Just… let's just be friends again. Please." He said quietly. "Let me help."

Clary looked up through her eyelashes and sighed.

"No cops." She said firmly, and she saw his face twitch. "It wouldn't help." She said, and Jace nodded.

"Fine, if that's what you want." He said, and she let out a sigh of relief.

The reality of the situation set in, and she bit her lip hard to stop from crying. Every time that she felt safe something like this happened, and not only was she tired of it, she was tired of being tired. But despite this she still had her mom to look after.

She turned away from him, grabbing her bag and her phone, and as she did the pair of girls returned to the room, talking in hushed voices. They stopped as they entered.

"Hey, are you ready to go now?" Isabelle asked. "Because Maia and I thought that we could go to your apartment, meet Bat there, and we can help you change the lock." Isabelle said gently, and Clary sighed.

"Okay, yeah that's a plan." She said dejectedly, but Maia just slipped her arm through Clary's, dragging her along, Isabelle and Jace trailing along behind them.

"Accept the help, Clary." Maia said gently. "Isabelle and her family, no matter what, they are good people. We're like family. You're family now." She said into her ear.

Clary looked up nervously, knowing that if what came next didn't go to plan then she wouldn't be part of their family for long.

…...

"The place is clear- also I called a friend of mine who knows the super and they're going to issue a new lock for the main door."

They were in Clary's apartment; Jace was standing by the door with a drill in his hand, cigarette dangling precariously from his lip. Clary was next to him, the final screw for the new lock in her hand, waiting to be fitted.

Maia was next to Bat, who turned out to be a lean man in his late teens with dark skin, and an insane scar across his cheek. Everyone decided it was best not to ask. Clary sighed in relief.

"Thank you." She said sincerely, and Bat looked her in the eyes, a mutual understanding passing between them. They both had scars, and unlike Clary Bat didn't seem scared of his.

"It's no problem, you'd be surprised by the number of stalkers in this area. Not to scare you or anything, but if something weird happens again just call me. I've got people who can help."

When the group had arrived from the hardware store Bat had been waiting for them outside Clary's apartment. Maia had helped Clary explain the situation, and Clary had been clear on not wanting the cops involved- Bat hadn't commented, but understood the agreement.

"C'mon, I'll walk you out." Maia said to him, and the pair made their way out of the open apartment door, leaving Jace and Clary alone. Izzy had offered to add a new lock to her window and was in Clary's room, and the pair could hear them singing badly.

"Last one." Jace said, tucking the cigarette behind his ear and holding up the drill. They had been quiet whilst they worked, and Clary carefully slotted the screw into it's hole, holding the frame steady as Jace screwed it in. She watched the bolt disappear with finality into the wood, and as they swung the door shut with a resounding click for the first time she felt much safer.

"You have the keys, right?" He asked her, and she nodded, patting her pocket. She couldn't take her eyes off the lock.

"Hey." Clary flinched slightly as Jace touched her arm, and she turned to look at him. "You okay?" He continued. She nodded again.

"I'm gonna need more than a nod, Cherry." He said, looking down at her. She swallowed.

"I'm scared." She breathed, not meaning to but unable to hold it in. Her eyes flicked back to the lock, then back to Jace. Jace continued to look her in the eye, unrelenting and steely in his gaze.

"You should be."

Clary flinched at the response and looked down, but Jace wasn't finished.

"This is serious, Clary. And I still think we should call the cops, but you seem set on dealing with this with the help of some street rat Maia knows and Isabelle's insufficient knowledge of DIY. But you're a big girl, so I'm on board." He said carefully. The cigarette that had been unlit in his mouth was now tucked behind one ear as he spoke, and Clary fixed her gaze on the shrivelled end of tobacco rather than look him in the eye. "But if this gets any worse, Clary, you're going to need help."

"If this gets any worse I'm gone." She blurted out. He raised an eyebrow as she set her gaze, and she sighed wearily, "If any happens again… my mom and I will leave. That's how it goes." She finished bitterly. Jace scoffed.

"Running away. I like your style Cherry, very practical." He said without passion. She grimaced at him, and he reached up and plucked the cigarette from behind his ear. "I'm going to find Maia."

With that he exited her apartment, not angry enough to not check that her apartment door had clicked shut properly.

"Well that was dramatic." Clary turned to see Isabelle entering the room with a smirk on her face, tossing a handful of screws onto the table by the couch. "Don't worry about Jace- he'll keep his mouth shut, its what he does best." She continued and sat down heavily on the couch, patting the cushion beside her. Clary dragged her feet along, slumping down beside her friend. Isabelle immediately wrapped an arm around her.

"Whatever's going on Clary, I'm here. If you need." Isabelle said sincerely, and Clary couldn't help but sigh. "Okay…" Isabelle continued with a laugh. "Let's talk about something else- what should I do about my dad?"

Clary scoffed.

"Are you really asking me? I don't think I'm qualified to answer…" She said uneasily, and she felt Isabelle shrug.

"I don't think anyone is… a psychologist maybe?" She said with a smirk. "I just hate liars and I don't think I can just let this go, let him get away with this with no repercussions."

Clary nodded, the frustration evident in Isabelle's voice distracting her from her own loud thoughts. They were both disrupted by a harsh banging at the door, followed by the scraping of a key. Clary jumped up, alarmed, and Isabelle followed suit. The banging came again, along with the shuffling sound of footsteps, and Clary gripped Isabelle's arm as she sucked in a sharp breath. She thought about taking a step toward the door, opening it, but her feet wouldn't move.

"Clary! It's me, are you in there?" The sound of the voice was muffled, but Clary immediately recognised it as her mother's voice and unfroze, running to the door and turning the new lock, pulling the door open.

Her mother immediately pulled her in for a hug and Clary gripped her tightly, the waxy fabric of her mother's jacket familiar against her fingers.

"What are you doing here?" She gasped into her mother's hair. "I told you to stay away… you know how we do this!" Her mom shook her head against Clary's hair.

"I couldn't just leave you here… and Luke was worried too." Clary looked up for the first time to see Luke standing in the doorway, watching protectively down the dark hallway. She pulled away and looked at her mother.

"I changed the locks. That's why you couldn't get in- I'll get your key for you in a minute." She said, her eyes flicking to Isabelle. "Isabelle and her brother helped."

"I don't think it's safe here Clary… we need to…" Her mother trailed off, looking at Isabelle too. She lowered her voice. "I think we should leave."

Clary shut her eyes and let out a sigh. She reached out, gripping her mom's hand, and lowered her voice to match her mother's tone.

"I don't want to leave, mom. I like it here… I have-" She glanced over at Isabelle who had taken to the kitchen with Luke to help make tea. "I have friends. And you have Luke- I think I'm tired of running."

There was a look in Jocelyn's eyes that Clary hadn't seen in a long time- hope? Relief? Since Jonathon things hadn't been the same, but this seemed like a step forward. Her mother opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again. And then-

"I like it here too. But if we're staying, if this is it, we're going to need to actually live here. Make a life- because if he does come for us, we'll need to put up a fight." Her mother said carefully, and Clary nodded briskly.

"I'm tired of hiding, mom." She said, her green eyes meeting her mother's wearied ones.

"Me too Clary."

…

"No you did not!" Clary said, shocked as her mother and Luke laughed beside her. Isabelle had stayed for the night and the four of them were sat around the small kitchen table sipping tea in their pyjama's. Luke had already had a chat with Bat, Maia's friend who had checked the building for surveillance, and Maia and Jace were long gone. There was still a feeling of unease within Clary, but the longer they sat in the warm, loud apartment the safer she felt.

"I did- the teacher was a sexist pig!" Isabelle retorted, her eyes wide.

"You set your work on fire… on your own desk? Where did you get the lighter?" Clary asked, still shocked.

"Oh, Jace, obviously. He was all over that idea." She said, leaning back in her chair proudly. Clary grinned, knowing that Jace would definitely be all over chaos.

She pushed that thought from her mind.

"Remind me to never let you near an open flame, you arsonist." She said, shaking her head. They all laughed, and her mother looked at the time.

"Okay kids, I'm off to bed I think." She said, and Isabelle nodded.

"Us too." Clary said, and the pair said their goodnights before heading into Clary's room, both of them squeezing into Clary's bed, lying side by side in the darkness.

"Luke seems nice." Isabelle said carefully, gauging Clary's reaction. Clary shrugged.

"He is a really nice guy- I've probably scared him right off with my outburst back in the hospital." They both laughed.

"Nah, he doesn't scare easy." Isabelle said, turning to face Clary in the darkness. "Can I ask you something Clary?" She asked, and Clary laughed again.

"Loaded question- okay?" She said nervously.

"This thing, this big thing that keeps coming to bite you. Is it a person?" Isabelle asked, and Clary gulped. Isabelle was a good person, a good friend who shared her life with Clary- and she deserved to know. She swallowed again.

"Yes." She whispered in response. "My dad." She said even quieter. She moved to take Isabelle's hand, and for the first time in her life, she ran Isabelle's hand along her own bare arm, letting Izzy's soft skin feel the raised, puckered scars and the thin lines on her own skin. Isabelle was confused.

"This is why I always cover up, why I freaked out that first gym lesson. I'm not a cutter, but I have scars. Because of him." She whispered. Isabelle sighed.

"Oh, Clary."

She could feel Isabelle's cool fingers on her forearm, then they were gone and her fingers were intertwined with her own.

"I will personally hunt down any person who hurts you, okay short stuff? I only just got you in my life, and there is no way I am losing you know." Clary's heart fluttered at the words.

"You'll hunt them down?" Clary asked, trying to hunt them down.

"Yep- and I'm a known arsonist, so they can all watch out."

They both burst into laughter at that, a warm feeling filling the space more than just the central heating. They fell asleep, hands intertwined, a bond growing between them that couldn't be broken.

…

The lunch table the next day was buzzing- Aline and Simon both knew that they had missed something, and Magnus and Alec were on edge after the homophobic display of the previous day.

"Okay, no listen Iz, I've got it- 'Daylight Vampires'- huh? Yeah? Good right?" Simon said excitedly, telling the whole group of his bands new name.

"Wrong." Said Clary, grimacing, and Isabelle cackled with laughter. Simon frowned.

"Well we need a name soon! Our first gig is this Saturday and we need to make flyers to hand out." He said dejectedly, scribbling out yet another name on his ever expanding list.

"Simon, do the names have to sound like the name of a fantasy geek's wet dream?" Aline said, chewing thoughtfully on her salad. Magnus grinned, but Simon was not amused.

"What style is your band?" Clary asked, trying to diffuse the tension. "Are you any good?" It briefly occurred to her that that sounded rude, but it was in the open now.

"We like to think we're a bit of new age folk-punk fusion, with just a splash of alt rock." Simon said, waving his hands. Clary blinked.

"You just made that up. Lewis." Isabelle said, and Simon nodded.

"That's true, my fair lady, but it sounded cool. Besides, you'll be seeing our band this weekend Clary." She raised an eyebrow at the statement, looking to Maia who was making cut throat gestures emphatically from behind Simon.

"Uh… will I?" She responded. He rolled his eyes.

"Uh, duh." He mimicked. "You're all coming to the gig, right?" He asked the table. Silence. "Right?" He said more forcefully, and there was a collective murmur.

"Oh yeah, wouldn't miss is Sigmund." Magnus said, examining his glittery nails, and Alec stifled a laugh in his boyfriend's shoulder. Simon rolled his eyes as everyone added their own.

"Of course we'll be there- Jordan will come out of guilt of leaving anyway." Maia said, grinning.

"Well, I'll come as long as Helen is invited- she's got the fake ID.' Aline said, winking, still eating. How that girl ate so much and stayed so small was a mystery to Clary.

"What do you say, smalls? Want to go to a alt rock, punk- folk fusion gig?" Isabelle asked Clary. She remembered her mother's words, that they needed to start living. No more laying low.

"Yeah, why not. Sounds like fun." Clary said, and everyone grinned. "Okay, I need to hand in some more catch up work to Mr Blackthorn, so I'll see you in art." Clary said to Isabelle, and she waved goodbye to the rest of the group.

Slinging her bag over her shoulder she made her way swiftly from the cafeteria, heading toward her English classroom with purpose- the last thing she wanted was a chance encounter with Jace in the hallway, as those never seemed to end well.

"Clare!"

Clary froze, then turned at the voice shouting at her. The hallway wasn't empty, but she immediately knew that it was Sebastian that had shouted, as he was walking purposely toward her. And following him was Kaelie. She turned back around- this is not a situation that she wanted to deal with.

"Hey- wait up." The voice was growing closer, and within a minute Sebastian was behind her, grabbing her arm and spinning her around. Clary winced, staring into his hard, open face, a smirk fixed on his face. "You're in a rush." He grinned, his hand still on her arm, fixing her in place. He was holding too tight.

"What do you want, Sebastian." She said quietly, adamant to not let her voice waver. He raised a brow in challenge to her tone.

"Look, short stuff, I wanted to apologise for running you down, and I've decided I'm gonna take you out as a repayment." He said, his fingers still gripping her. The smugness lacing his tone made her uneasy, and a flame of anger surged within her.

"Did you apologise to Alec?" She said. "Or Magnus?" She continued, her voice quiet and clear. His scoff was answer enough and she tried to tug her arm free. "No offence, Sebastian, but I wouldn't go out with you in a million years." She jibed, and although the glint in his eye was frightening she was pleased that she hadn't backed down. She didn't owe him anything. Sebastian leant in closer and Clary.

"I don't remember asking." He said, almost laughing. Clary swallowed, shaking her arm. He gripped tighter and she choked at the feel of his fingers digging in. She pushed at his chest.

"God, stop acting like an animal!" She replied. "Let me go right now." He did laugh this time.

"Or what?" He laughed.

"Or you'll lose that hand." A voice came from behind Clary. Sebastian looked up, a grin spreading across his face.

"The fag himself." He said with a smirk, and Clary whipped round to see Alec standing with his hands in his pockets, face cool and eyes burning blue. She turned back to Sebastian and smacked his chest hard at the remark, her blood boiling. The force shocked him, and he slackened his grip, giving her the opportunity to shake free. She stumbled backward toward Alec who caught her elbow, and she rubbed her arm.

"Get over yourself, Verlac." She spat, before quickly turning and heading in the direction that she had been before she had been interrupted. As she walked away she could hear Kaelie's scathing laugh to a girl with dyed crimson hair.

"What a slut- Jace, then Verlac, now Alec- doesn't she know he's gay?"

She ignored their taunt and strode down the hallway, Alec following next to her. They turned down into a quiet alcove where Clary stopped, dropping her bag, and leant against a water fountain. Alec stood in front of her, a haughty look on his face.

"Sorry." He said carefully, watching her. Clary looked up, shocked, then laughed.

"Sorry!" She said. "What do you have to be sorry for?" He looked at his shoes, the ran a hand through his hair.

"If it weren't for me none of that would have happened." He said quietly, and Clary sighed, standing up.

"If Verlac wasn't a homophobe that wouldn't have happened, it was no way your fault." She said gently. "Besides, I chose to ram into him, so it kind of is my fault. All I want now is a normal day at school. I'm pretty sure I've had more drama than a 90's sitcom here." She said with a grin, and he smiled back, still uneasy but less guilty. The bell rang and shocked them both, and Clary groaned.

"There goes my plan to hand in my catch-up work." She said forlornly, and Alec grinned.

"Blackthorn is a ballbuster- give it to me and I'll get it to him, you go to art." He said, holding out a hand. Clary grinned.

"Thank you so much!" She said, handing him her folder. He just smiled, giving her a quick salute and heading out in the direction of the English block, purpose in his step. Clary smiled again. The Lightwood's were good people, and she wondered how anyone could have anything against such a soft spoken character.

…

The rest of the week flew by uneventfully- no one let Clary go anywhere alone, and she spent the week riding to school with Isabelle and spending her evenings working in Luke's bookshop with her mother. Although she was still wary of Luke, she grew to like his sister, Amatis, who was slightly younger and livelier than her brother. Clary liked sitting in the back with Amatis, pretending to dust shelves whilst really talking about books.

Luke and Jocelyn could see right through them- but neither minded.

By the time Saturday came around Clary's anxieties had lessened, and the thought of the photographs were no longer at the front of her mind- especially considering the fact that Bat, who turned out to work for a group of private investigators, had taken it upon himself to drop by every so often- he and Luke seemed to get along, and he refused to accept any money that Clary's mother offered him. Clary had told him nothing- he seemed to know anyway.

When Saturday morning came Clary was awoken by the sound of talking from her kitchen. She woke groggily, taking in the gloomy light filtering through her curtains and she sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. There was a knock at her door, and before Clary had time to react Isabelle was flying into her room, pulling open the curtains, thrusting a cup of coffee into Clary's hands and jumping under the cover with her. Clary stared at her, wide eyed.

"Morning?" She said cautiously, and then they both burst into laughter, trying not to spill coffee on Clary's bedsheets.

"What are you doing here?" Clary asked sleepily, sipping on the hot coffee. Isabelle looked down, clasping her cup.

"My dad. He left this morning- he turned up out of the blue, packed his bags and left." She continued to look at her hands. "He didn't even say goodbye."

Clary watched her, waiting for her friend to look up, to gauge her emotions. When she did she was met with fiery eyes, deep brown and almost black in the morning light. She was angry.

"Oh Iz. I hope you're okay… if you need anything, just ask. Hey, my mom seems to love you, you can come live with us." She laughed, and Isabelle grinned.

"I wish- she let me sit in your kitchen for like, an hour before you woke up." Isabelle laughed. "I just- I didn't want to be home. Max isn't there, Jace has been fuming all week, and Alec has practically moved in with Magnus. It doesn't feel like the house I grew up in anymore." She said dully, blinking hard to stop tears. "That sounds so stupid, right?" Clary shook her head.

"No, that makes perfect sense. Bad things happen but the world keeps turning Izzy, we just have to try and keep moving on too," She said quietly. Izzy snorted.

"That was so deep Clary." She laughed, then bumped her shoulder with Clary's. "But very true. I'm just going to have to get used to it." She smiled sadly. "Okay- enough depressing stuff! What are we gonna do all day, before Simon's gig, obviously." She said, rolling her eyes, and Clary grinned.

"Whatever you like." Clary said, sipping her coffee. She later came to regret this greatly.

…

"Izzyyy." Maia whined from her seat on the plush leather sofa in the fifteenth shop they had visited. "Hurry up and show us, I'm getting old here."

Clary giggled- she had holed up on the floor by Maia and Aline's feet and had pulled out her sketchpad, not able to keep up with the chatter and not wanting to buy anything.

"Give me a minute! This thing's so hard to get on." Came Izzy's voice from the cubicle.

Izzy then exited the dressing room, a lacy blue dress clinging to her frame. Aline wolf whistled while Maia groaned.

"What?" Isabelle said indignantly, turning in the mirror to look at herself. "I like it!" She said frostily.

"I like it too." Said Maia. "But you tried on the exact same dress in the past three stores." She said, covering her face with her hands.

"No- this one has lace all over." Isabelle said matter of factly, hand on her hip. Clary laughed at the situation.

"Well, I think that they're all lovely." She said with a grin. "But are you going to buy one today? Because I'm hungry." She finished, and Aline cheered.

"Yes! Lunch, please." She added and Isabelle rolled her eyes.

"Fine, just let me buy this-"Maia cheered at the remark. "And then we'll go get some lunch, okay?"

There was a chorus of agreement, and fifteen minutes later they were crammed around a tiny table at Java Jones sipping iced coffee through paper straws and eating lukewarm paninis.

"Why do we always come back here?" Maia said, cringing at the teenage poet who was currently crooning into the microphone in the corner. Isabelle laughed.

"Cheap coffee?" Aline said.

"Cute barista?" Isabelle replied, eying up the guy behind the counter, and Maia laughed.

"As if." She said. "Besides, we all know you've got your eye on a certain nerd." She repeated, and then laughed at Isabelle's narrowed eyes.

"Whatever Maia, you just don't think he's cute because you've got a supermodel for a boyfriend." She said airily, and Aline laughed.

"No one's gonna agree with you, Iz." She said, and Isabelle rolled her eyes.

"You're gay, Aline. Of course you won't agree. Back me up Clary."

Clary, who had been grinning at their conversation, blushed hard at the question and looked down into her coffee.

"Um… I guess." She said, and Maia cackled, ruffling Clary's hair which was nearly the same shade as her cheeks.

"You've got her all flustered!" Aline said, laughing as well. "You do think he's cute!"

In reality Clary didn't really think anything of the barista- she just hated attention, so she just shrugged, hiding her face in her hands and grinning.

"Shut up." She whined, and her friends laughed harder. It was only when the barista came over to pick up their empty plates that they stopped laughing.

"Thank you." Izzy said, winking at Clary, and they spent the rest of lunch trying to get her to blush again, much to her chagrin.

After they had finished they went back to Isabelle's house to get ready for Simon's gig, and Clary was once again thrust into a strange world which she felt quite detached from; Aline was sat on the floor by Izzy's bed whilst Maia sat behind her, braiding the front of her hair.

"What did Simon decide on for his band name?" Clary said, settling on Isabelle's bed. Maia picked up her phone and opened up her text from Simon with the details of the gig.

"The Mortal Instruments." She read aloud, and Aline shrugged.

"I like it- it's better than 'Metamorphoses and Blue Drinks'." She said, grinning over at Clary, only to have Maia smack her head for moving. Clary laughed.

"The Mortal Instruments… I like it." Clary said, pulling her legs to her chest. "How long have they been together?" Clary asked, to no one in particular.

"Oh, Simon's had a band since he was in middle school, but this one's been together for like… two years?" Maia said thoughtfully, finishing Aline's hair. "Jordan was in this one when it started." She said, and Clary grinned.

"Seriously?" Clary laughed, and Maia grinned.

"Yeah, he was awful." Aline said, receiving another whack on her head. She stuck out her tongue. "I'm going to sit with Izzy, you keep bullying me." She said with a laugh, skipping into the en suite where Isabelle was doing her makeup. Maia laughed and slid back further on the bed so that she was lying next to Clary.

"Are you gonna be okay tonight?" She asked Clary quietly, eyeing the door. Clary frowned. "I mean… you'll feel safe?"

Clary was touched that Maia had thought to ask.

"I'm good- nothing's happened since… the photos. I'm hoping that the person that intended them to get to me didn't take them themselves." She said, hoping it didn't sound too much like a riddle.

"Okay, well Bat- my friend- he asked if you would mind him coming along tonight, to sit with us. He's a friend anyway, but I wondered if it would make you feel better?" Maia asked again, and Clary smiled.

"That would be nice. Thank you, Maia." She said, and Maia sighed.

"I like you Clary, and I want you to be okay. But I think I anything else happens you should go to the police." Maia said seriously. Clary looked at her hands.

"I know. I will- I'm not going to be controlled by my fear anymore, and neither's my mom." Clary said, and Maia nodded earnestly.

"Your mom seems nice." Maia said. And Clary nodded, opening her mouth. But before she could say anything, Isabelle came barrelling out of the bathroom.

"Okay- who's next?"

…

It was the loudest place that she had ever been in, and it wasn't even that loud. Pandemonium was an all ages club that, according to Isabelle, was the easiest place to get cheap beer and had the best music for a place that let in fourteen-year olds. But despite the noise, Clary liked the atmosphere- there was live music from a group of four women, all with middle partings and henna tattoos, and all around her were people that she knew- Maia and Helen were dancing badly to the music whilst Aline laughed, Jordan was drinking beer and talking with Alec, shouting behind his hand to be heard above the noise, and currently herself, Isabelle and Eric were all stood around Simon whose face was as white as her own.

"I can't do this." Simon said, leaning so low against the counter that he was almost Clary's height. "I cannot do this." Eric, a man of few words when he wasn't reciting bad poetry, patted Simon on the back.

"Sure you can." Clary said soothingly, stopping herself from patting him too. "It's not that many people…" She implored, looking around at the relatively thin crowd. Simon shuddered.

"I should've stuck to coffee shops and garages. This is too much." Simon whispered, putting his hand to his forehead dramatically. And then Isabelle smacked him.

Not that hard, but hard enough.

"Listen up, Lewis." Isabelle said, hand on hip. Simon watched her with wide eyes, a hand covering his reddening cheek. "I got all dressed up for this, and Clary actually left the house." Clary looked at her indignantly. "So you are going to go up on that stage, you are going to blow these prepubescent minds, and then you are gonna pretend you never sat here crying like a little baby. Okay?"

Simon nodded dutifully, and Isabelle grinned.

"Okay. Drinks."

She turned on her heel and walked to the other end of the bar, and Simon stood up taller.

"That girl will be the death of me." He said, rubbing the back of his neck. Eric snorted and wandered off backstage, and Clary grinned. Simon rolled his eyes.

"Wish me luck, short stuff." Simon said, rubbing the top of her hair before ducking through the crowd in the direction of the stage, and Clary was left alone. She moved to sit on a bar stool, preparing to wait for Isabelle, when she felt a warm presence beside her. She turned quickly, expecting the worse, and was met by the face of Bat, Maia's mysterious friend.

"Hey." He said, leaning in closer to her so he could be heard. Clary looked at him, leaning calmly against the bar, his open face marred by a long, thin scar. She blinked.

"Hi." She responded quietly, and she saw something flash in his eyes.

"I didn't mean to freak you out," He said, leaning back slightly, but smiling more. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright- how's your mom?"

At that, Clary relaxed- this was a person that had helped her, and who both her mother and Luke trusted.

"She's good, thanks. I never did get to say…" Clary said, looking around to see where her friends were. They were all either waiting for drinks or dancing, so she was alone. "Thank you. For helping out, that day. It was good of you." She said, looking at her hands. She heard a noise in the bottom of his throat and looked up. He was watching her intensely, arms crossed over his chest.

"You don't need to thank me. It's what I do- but make sure you watch yourself." He said carefully, and Clary nodded earnestly. He grinned, and the change in his features was so dramatic that Clary had to blink hard. "Have you seen Maia?" He asked, and Clary nodded, glancing at the dancefloor.

"She's over there, with the blond girl- see them?" Clary said, pointing at the only two people in the room dancing. He laughed at the pair, folding his arms and leaning against the bar.

"Right. I guess I'll wait here then." Clary laughed.

"Yeah, that sounds like the safest option." She replied, looking around the room for Isabelle- she was currently talking to the guy at the bar, flicking back her hair, and Clary rolled her eyes at her friend. She continued to scan the room for the others; the band playing had stopped and whilst Simon's band set up loud rock music was playing out of the speakers, and the lights had dimmed, a reddish glow spreading throughout the club. She caught sight of Kaelie edging through the doors, a dress that left little to the imagination clinging to her body and shoes that made her six inches taller. Clary frowned; this didn't seem like Kaelie's scene, but her query was answered by the figure that followed her in.

Jace was in his usual black jeans and white top, his hair glowing gold in the red light; her breath hitched. From here she could see how tired he looked, how tight his shoulders tensed when Kaelie moved to put his arm around her. Why had he come?

As if hearing her thoughts Jace's eyes swept over the crowd, not stopping until they landed on her own wide eyes. She was trapped in his gaze, watching him watch her, their eyes locked. She felt a heat rise up her neck, and then she felt a warm hand on her arm.

"Clary… who's that?" Bat said quietly. Clary blinked, blushing.

"It's Jace." She said quietly, and Bat moved his head. He frowned.

"No, not Jace- that guy over there." He repeated, and Clary followed his gaze. The lights in the club had begun to strobe, casting dark shadows over the crowd. Clary couldn't make him out, but Bat was watching someone close to the stage whose back was turned. She squinted, trying to make him out.

"I'm not sure." She said weakly, looking up at Bat. "Why?"

He caught her eye before turning to watch him again, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Nothing, I just thought you might know him- I'm going to get Maia. Don't go anywhere." He said, smiling at her, but the tightness in his eyes gave away his worry. Clary swallowed, looking around for Isabelle who seemed to have disappeared, a sense of dread instilled within her.

It couldn't be him.

Simon's band were on stage now, and he was introducing their set to a cheering crowd, strumming away the first notes of their song. The room got louder as the crowd settled in, and the evening reached that point where everyone was tipsy, everyone singing and shouting. But Clary's eyes were fixed on the guy by the stage. He was tall, heavily built.

It could be him.

She gasped harshly, the sound muffled by the crowd. He was moving away, but he was looking at her. Watching her. He turned away again, and his large shape moved toward the washrooms, pushing through the crowd with the bright lights casting sharp shadows over his face.

Involuntarily her feet began to move, pulling her away from the bar and towards him. Because if it was him, if it was her father, she was going to end the game before it started. She pushed her way through hot bodies, trying to keep her head above the crowd as she watched him disappear into a dark hallway. She kept moving, the blood pounding in her ears, her breath heavy. Her beat up chucks made it easy for her to make without tripping, but it felt like an age before she finally pushed through the edge of the dancers and stumbled into the hallway, fluorescent lights casting a dim glow over the hallway.

She stepped forward, a chill running up her spine, and he stepped into the light. Her eyes were as wide as plates as he stepped closer.

"I knew you'd follow."

…

Jace hated Pandemonium; the lights were too bright, the music was appalling, and the place was filled with people like Kaelie, dressing up in an attempt to get served. But he came tonight because he knew that she would be here.

Kaelie had shown up as he left his house; apparently she had been planning on dragging him there anyway because Izzy had posted that it was 'the place to be'. Jace smirked; the only person that didn't know that Izzy was in love with Simon, was Simon.

So here he was, on an unintentional date with the last girl he wanted to be with, staring at the only girl he did. She was by the bar, Bat leaning protectively next to her. He clenched his fists when he noticed and felt Kaelie's shimmering arms slide around him. He tensed, not liking the feeling, and finally caught Clary's gaze. Her eyes were bright green in the flashing lights, and her face was open, a small smile on her face. He was transfixed, wanting to go over to her. But then Bat whispered something in her ear and she blushed, the flush visible from where he was standing, and he felt the hot flame of jealousy burn through him. He turned away, not wanting her to see him grimace.

He spent the next few minutes tuning out Kaelie, trying to locate Isabelle. Simon's band were playing and they weren't terrible, not that he would ever admit that, but his sister was nowhere in sight. He couldn't help himself, and he glanced back up at Clary. But she was gone, and so was Bat.

His heart skipped a beat as he scanned the crowd, praying to any god that he wouldn't see them dancing together, wouldn't see their bodies mashed together in a corner. Instead he saw Bat standing with Maia, their heads bent together, and Clary moving too quickly to be followed. He could hear Kaelie whining in his ear, but he wasn't concentrating. Clary's haste was evident, panicked, and he wondered what she was running from. Or, to. Without thinking further, he set off after her, moving quicker than she had and not noticing Kaelie following behind.

…

"Sebastian." Clary choked as he stepped closer, the light illuminating his wolfish features. "I thought you were someone else." She said weakly, trying to step back as he approached, but she was too slow and too shocked, adrenaline dropping so fast that she felt faint, and she had no energy to push him back and stop him as he gripped her hips tightly and slipped a hand into her hair, pressing his lips firmly to hers.

She was shocked- did these things always happen to her? Did people think she was a ragdoll to be used and abused, kicked around and played with. Sebastian was gripping her so tightly that she felt like she was in a vice, and his lips were wet and intrusive. She felt his tongue slip out, and her eyes widened, realising that she was stock still with her hands by her side. She woke up.

Pushing back with all the force she could muster she slammed her hands into his chest as she had done in the hallway, feeling his grip slip. She pulled her face away from him and slapped his face as hard as she could, hitting at his chest as he gripped her hips. He hissed.

"Get the fuck off of me!" Clary shouted, panic brewing inside of her- the music was too loud, no one could hear her, and there was a deadly look in his eyes.

"Are you joking, you fucking tease." He muttered, pulling her closer to him. She pushed at him with her body which only spurred him on. "I saw you watching me, you followed me here. I knew you were only pretending not to want me." She gagged as he kissed her neck, digging her nails into his biceps to no avail. "And I saw you flirting with that guy; don't pretend you're some virgin."

At this she yelled out, fighting him off with every ounce of strength and taking a step back from his prowling figure.

"You're psychotic!" She yelled at him, squaring up despite her stature. "I already told you, I'm not interested, so back the fuck off. Stay away from me."

He didn't get the message.

"Don't play hard to get babe. We both know how this ends up." He said, moving toward her again, and Clary was preparing to turn to run when another voice chimed in.

"Everything okay?"

Clary whipped round and saw Jace- and for the first time she was glad he was here while she was outmatched. She reached out, gripping his hand in the dark.

"I am now, let's go." She said under her breath, but Sebastian wasn't giving up that easily.

"Oh, fuck off Herondale. Can't you see you aren't wanted. I don't know how many times you two might have screwed, share it around, okay?" He said, stepping up menacingly. Jace's fingers tightened around Clary's as she stepped into him.

"Oh, you are joking me."

Kaelie.

Jace groaned; now it was a party.

"You're here with her? That skank, when you could have me. This is some sick joke." Kaelie was blocking the entrance, screeching over the music, and Clary shut her eyes.

"Kaelie, in case it wasn't obvious, we've been over for a long time." Jace said calmly, walking to exit the hallway. She stood in his path, and Clary felt Sebastian lunge forward and grip her arm. She lost it.

"Everybody shut up!" She yelled just as the music lulled. "Kaelie, no offense, but fuck off. Jace isn't interested, and if he was he would let you know." She said, staring Kaelie down, her eyes wide and furious. She could feel the adrenaline buzzing through her body. She turned to Sebastian and shook him off, staring him in the eye.

"And you- if you touch me one more time I will not hesitate to call the cops. Got it?" She snapped, pulling away and pushing Jace back out into the crowd, not waiting for a response.

They moved quickly, hands intertwined, pushing through the crowd and out of the back door. Simon was crooning into the microphone, and her friends were dancing in the crowd, but she wanted to leave.

They made it through the back, and the second the cool air hit and the music dulled, Clary caught her breath. The blood rushed back to her heart again and she could feel the erratic beat of her pulse and she was panicking; she had thought she had seen her father in the crowd, watching her, and instead she had been assaulted by Sebastian. She took a shuddering breath.

"Clary. Calm down." She heard a voice in front of her, and she looked up. Jace was watching her, hard eyes glowing gold in the darkness. "Look at me. You're okay."  
Clary gulped in the fresh air, and her fingers reached out to grip his t-shirt.

"Jace." She let out a strangled gasp, pulling at the fabric. He leant over her protectively, watching her. She took a deep breath again, feeling her pulse slow and the blood rushing in her ears calm. She breathed a normal breath. "Jace." She said again and looked up at him. "Thanks." She whispered, and he looked at the sky, grinning.

"No offense, Cherry, but we can't take you anywhere." He said, then his face turned stony again. "Are you okay? What happened?" Clary gulped.

"I thought I saw someone I… knew." Clary said, gripping his shirt tighter; he put a hand on her upper arm reassuringly. "And Bat had said he saw someone… so I followed him."

Jace groaned.

"I'll ignore your stupidity." He said, meeting her glaring eyes. "Then what happened." Clary blinked.

"He kissed me. Called me a tease." She said bluntly, watching the glint in his eyes. "So I slapped him." She said. "It wasn't like… the last time. I fought him off." She felt Jace step closer.

"Are you okay?" He asked, and Clary sighed.

"No. He kissed me. Without asking. That's not okay." She said, touching her lips. "I feel disgusting- like he's still kissing me." She finished, watching his eyebrows scrunch together.

They stood, watching each other in silence. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest, and she pulled him closer.

"What do you need?" Jace asked, scanning her face. She shrugged.

"What can you do?" She replied, looking down. He growled, and Clary could feel the rumble in his chest.

"I could beat the shit out of him." He said, and Clary grinned. "I could rip out his tongue, so he could never kiss anyone again." He continued, inching his face closer to Clary's. "Or…"

He glanced down at her lips, and she looked up nervously. She knew what was coming, she could feel it, and for once she didn't want to stop it. Jace was always there for her, he was on her side. And he was so beautiful, here next to her.

"Or?" She said, urging him to keep going. Jace gulped; once he went for it, there was no going back.

"I shouldn't." He said quietly, repeating his forehead against hers. "Tell me I shouldn't." He repeated, but she just blinked up at him. She reached up, tentatively cupping his cheek.

"What if you should?" Clary whispered, and Jace swallowed again.

"Then you have to ask me. I have to know you want me to." He said, searching her eyes. She slipped her hand into his hair, pulling him closer.

"Jace." She said. "Kiss- "

"Clary!"

They pulled apart at the sound, and Maia and Isabelle came charging into the back alley.

"Are you okay?" We heard Verlac ranting about Jace, and Bat said he saw you coming out here. What happened?" Clary let Isabelle wrap her hands around her tightly, but she was watching over her shoulder for Jace.

He was already gone.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Read, review, enjoy.**

The next week was awkward. Uncomfortable. And for Clary, it felt like the longest week of her life;

On Sunday she woke up to the sound of Isabelle whispering down the phone, and the pair spent the day drinking tea and talking about Simon- a topic that Clary had become well versed in. They didn't talk about Sebastian, and they didn't talk about Jace.

On Monday she was dropped to school by Luke who, for the first time, had stayed the night. She didn't mind, in fact he was starting to grow on her, but the strange looks she received from strangers in the hallway was enough to make her stomach turn, and no amount of gossip- or coffee- from her friends could lessen her unease. She saw Jace once in the hallway, and he avoided her gaze.

On Tuesday and Wednesday, she helped her mother repaint their apartment; the walls were now a lively shade of green, and it was the first time that they had made a mark anywhere since Clary was ten years old. She loved it, and the perpetual smile on her mother's face made the flat feel like a home. Isabelle stayed over on Wednesday night, holding back tears as she delivered details of her parent's separation. On both these days she did her best not to think about a certain golden- haired boy. Her best wasn't good enough.

On Thursday, she tried not to break down in tears, because there were whispers in the air and she could feel them all around her. Something was about to happen.

And on Friday, it did.

"I don't see the point in changing it now." Aline said from her usual position at the lunch table. "You played a banging gig, everyone loved you!" She said, waving her hands ecstatically. Maia nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I like the name." Clary said, resting her chin in her hand; the week had been long, and she was growing fond of mindless chatter. It filled the endless hours of anxiety that had been eating at her. Simon rolled his eyes and clapped his hands.

"Look, I like the name as well, all I'm saying is that maybe it doesn't give off the right vibe." Simon said, looking around. "You get me?"

"No." Isabelle said, frustrated, pulling a chunk of Clary's hair into her nimble fingers and beginning to braid it. "The name is fine- if I'm being honest people don't give that much of a shit." She finished, and Magnus snorted; Simon glared.

"Oh, come on Seymour, you know we're kidding. But we are all in agreement that the name should stay." Magnus said firmly, grinning like a cat.

"My name is Simon, Magnus. You have known me for nearly ten years- pull yourself together." Simon muttered, clearly frustrated. Everyone laughed at him, because the issue of the band name had become an ever-expanding debate at their lunch table, and he still never stopped bringing it up. It was only when Clary felt a tap on her shoulder that Isabelle dropped her hair, and Clary turned around; behind her was a tall, blonde guy- she knew that his name was Meliorn, and he was notorious for sneaking paint stripper grade alcohol into private parties. She just wasn't sure why he was talking to her.

"Clary." He said, his accent thick but unrecognisable. There was a smug grin on his face, and his eyes kept flicking to something behind Clary. He grinned wider.

"Look, I just wanted to give you my number." He said, dropping a piece of paper in front of her. The whole table had stopped talking and were watching the scene, confused and curious. Clary frowned.

"Um… Why?" She asked him, eyes flicking down to the folded paper. He shoved his hands into his back pockets and grinned wider.

"Oh, you know- in case you ever wanted to finish what you and Verlac started. But with me." He said, and Clary heard someone behind her cackle, as well as Simon choking on his drink. She closed her eyes momentarily- here it is.

"I'm sorry? What exactly did we start." Clary said, swivelling in her seat. She felt Isabelle's arm come up around her, and she realised she was shaking. Meliorn raised his eyebrows.

"You know… the threesome thing. With him and some guy at the club? He wasn't up for it, but I am- so like I said, call me."

And with that he walked away, and the laughter from behind Clary grew. She was shaking so hard that the table shook with her, and she turned to see Sebastian sitting beside Kaelie, two girls she didn't know, and a lot of boys from the football team. As she caught his eye he winked and said something to the table, and they immediately broke into a fit of very loud laughter. She felt her face heat up and stood from the table.

"Don't follow me." She said to no-one in particular, and before they could respond she was on her feet, moving out of the cafeteria as fast as she could. It was like fate was on her side, because the hallways were empty, and she could sprint through them, trying to get lost in the labyrinth of school. But when she made it to the door leading to the football field, she realised where she was going.

Pushing through the fire exit she crossed the field; it was another windy east coast day and she could feel the wind whipping against her, her hair flying madly around her. And before she knew it, she was behind the bleachers once again. And in front of her was Jace, smoking a cigarette with his back to the wall. He watched her approach, and she stopped with six feet separating them. It felt like miles.

"You've been avoiding me." She said, hoping he could hear her, and as he met her gaze, she knew that he could.

"Yeah." He said, taking another puff. She watched his chest rise and fall, the smoke pooling around his face. She felt like she was shrouded in smoke too.

"There's a rumour going around about me. That I slept with Sebastian." She said, hoping to get a rise out of him. She couldn't tell from her spot, but she could have sworn she saw his muscles tighten. She brushed her hair from her face.

"They all think I slept with Bat, too. Or at least asked him to sleep with me." She said, louder this time. He looked at the ground, tapping his cigarette. "They're trying to humiliate me because I wouldn't follow his rules, because I rejected him. They're trying to make me miserable."

He still wouldn't look up.

"But I don't care." Clary breathed, and this got his attention. She could feel her heart hammering fast, her pulse racing. "I don't care what they say anymore, I don't care about the rumours. I've got shit to deal with- bigger fish to fry." She said sardonically, hoping he would crack a smile, but he just kept staring. She was going to have to make this obvious.

"Everyone at school knows my name now, and they've been looking at me, talking about me, whispering about me all week. But I couldn't care less- all I care about is the one person who's ignoring me."

He stood up straight at this, and took a step toward her, stamping out his cigarette with his thick boot. She swallowed.

"I'm used to spending my days scared, wanting to hide from everyone, so you must have really messed me up, Jace, because all I want to do is talk to you when you clearly don't want to talk to me." She looked down. "When you clearly don't _want_ me."

"Stop." He said, and she looked up, realising he was closer than she had realised. He'd closed half the space between them. "If you think that I don't spend every minute of my miserable existence thinking about you, then you're clearly not as smart as I think you are. I can't get you out of my head, Cherry, but that's not good. Because _I'm_ not good. Not for you." He said, running a hand through his hair. Clary's heart stopped- she was sure it had.

"I don't want good, Jace. Good is a lie; I want real. I've spent my whole life being scared, and right now I want to live. I want to be real- no more hiding who I am, or what I think. What I feel." Clary said, feeling obnoxious and nervous, and as she closed the gap between them she felt a spark of electricity; she fisted his shirt in her hand and stared into his eyes.

Jace closed his eyes briefly so he wouldn't have to see the heart wrenching honesty in her green eyes; every day since homecoming he had thought about her, and every time someone hurt her he felt such burning rage he thought he could combust. Teenagers weren't supposed to feel like this, it wasn't supposed to be this fierce. But he knew Clary wasn't the type to do anything half-heartedly, and this was the longest he had every heard her speak without apologising for something. He opened his eyes.

"If I cross this line, if we cross it, there's no going back." He said quietly, dipping down closer. "Because I'm tired of being fake- I want reality too. I want you."

"You can have me. This is me…" Clary said, reaching up onto her tip-toes to wrap a hand in his hair. She felt his hands settle on her hips, and felt her anxiety subside as she closed her eyes. "This is me asking." She whispered.

Jace groaned, and without a second thought he closed the small space between them, and he kissed her.

The moment their lips met he closed his eyes, and it felt like his first kiss all over again. It was soft and tentative, but better than anything he had ever felt. She was all around him, soft and warm, her hand in his hair as they moved in sync. She was everywhere; she was everything.

He brought his hand up to her face, cupping her cheek, holding her tightly to him as if at any moment she may disappear and slip through his fingers like sand. She wasn't scared like this; she was just Clary, matching his eagerness with equal measure, feeling like she might burst. And when they broke apart, she grinned, and he raised an eyebrow in question.

"Will you stop ignoring me now?" She whispered, chuckling. Jace couldn't even bring himself to say something witty, he was too dazed.

"Only if you kiss me again." He said, looking right into her eyes.

So she did.

…

That night was the first night that Clary fell asleep quickly; after she had left Jace she spent the rest of the day with her head down, ignoring the whispers- the people that mattered didn't care, they weren't listening to the rumours. Everyone just wanted to make sure she was okay.

As she drifted off she thought about Jace, about her mother, about Luke and Isabelle. There was a constant fear inside of her, but her and her mother's decision to face up to their past had lifted a weight from her shoulders; she no longer felt that she had o be ready to leave at any minute. She felt safe…

… " _Can you please play something else." Clary whined from her position on the couch; her brother was sat next to her in his work uniform, green eyes tired but content. They had been living in the tiny apartment in Seattle for two months and it was starting to feel like home; they had had to leave the motel in Washington, because their mother had been sure Valentine's squad car had been outside. Jonathon grinned at his sister's exasperation and strummed quicker, picking up the chorus._

" _There's a star-man, waiting in the sky…" He warbled, closing his eyes and grinning, and Clary climbed up onto him, covering her ears and giggling._

" _No! No, Jonny, no more star man." She protested, jumping on the couch. Jonathon ignored her, playing louder._

" _Oh, he'd like to come and met us, but he thinks he's blow our mind!" He carried on, and Clary put her hands on the strings of his beat-up guitar to stop him playing. He faked a pout and pushed the guitar from his body, pulling his sister on top of him instead and tickling her until tears were streaming down her face with her hysterics._

" _No more! Okay, okay- you can play it!" Clary conceded, rolling off his lap and onto the floor, still laughing, and as Jonathon continued to strum their mother walked in, phone glued to her ear. Jocelyn smiled at her children and watched them laugh._

" _Okay, I'll be in soon. Yes, it's okay." Jocelyn finished, then hung up the phone. "Sorry guys, but I'm going to have to cover Maria's shift tonight- are you okay looking after Clary, Jon?" She said softly, pulling on her coat. Jonathon grinned, and Clary rolled onto her stomach, looking up at her family._

" _Of course I am! See you later, Mom." He said, and their mother left with a fleeting wave. Jonathon looked down._

" _Just you and me, kiddo. Know what that means?" He said, and Clary jumped up, grinning._

" _Mac and cheese?" She said, bouncing on her feet. He laughed._

" _Exactly."_

 _They moved from the living room into the tiny kitchen, Clary perching on the edge of the worn table top that they had squashed three chairs around. Jonathon moved to the stove; and then, he looked back at her. Her dream wasn't a memory anymore, and she wasn't eleven. She was seventeen- but Jon was still Jon. He looked at her curiously._

" _I'm fine." He said, leaning against the counter opposite her, and Clary felt as though she were floating. She tried to stand up, but her legs were jelly._

" _Jonathon." She said, her mouth filled with cotton wool. She was so confused, so unnerved. But Jonathon was smiling._

" _I'm fine." He repeated. "Better than fine- I came to see you." He finished._

" _How." Clary choked out, and Jonathon shrugged, pulling a box of macaroni mix from the cupboard and ripping off the top._

" _It's been a while since we talked, I've missed you."_

 _Clary's heart wrenched when she heard this and she felt the hot burn of tears prick in her eyes._

" _I've missed you too." She said, watching him watch her._

 _And then she was eleven again, jumping off the tale and running to Jon, grabbing at his legs as he tried to cook. And as the sound of the pan and the water filled the kitchen, the sound of their laughter faded away…_

Clary woke with a start, sitting upright in her bed; there was a grey drizzle outside, and the dim morning light filtered through her curtains. Her breath was uneven from the dream, and she pushed back her covers as quickly as she could, flicking on the light and exiting her room. She knocked on her mother's door, but knowing Luke wasn't in there, she pushed into it. Her mother was sat upright in bed, and the clock read 5:30am. Jocelyn looked up from her book, meeting the worried eyes of her daughter.

"Clary?" She said quietly. She patted the space beside her and Clary clambered into the bed beside her, tucking her cold feet into her bedcovers and resting her head against her mother's shoulder. "What's wrong?" Her mother asked, and Clary closed her eyes.

"I had a dream about Jonathon." She said, her brain trying to piece together the memory. Her mother sucked in a sharp breath.

"You had a nightmare?" She said, rubbing Clary's back, but Clary felt a warmth spread through her. She shook her head.

"No." She smiled. "Not a nightmare- it was nice. Like I was talking to him again." Clary's mother smiled. "I miss him a lot, mom." She finished.

"Me too." Her mother said, and they sat quietly together, thinking, until her mother's alarm went off.

"Are you okay getting to school early this morning?" Her mother asked an hour later as Clary munched on a slice of toast, packing her bag. Clary nodded.

"Yeah, I'm going to walk in this morning; it's just a meeting with the guidance counsellor, right?" Clary asked her mother, and she nodded in reply.

"Yes, they just want to check that you've settled in okay." She said, pulling on her long, waxed coat, and swooping down to kiss Clary on the cheek. "Okay, Luke and I are going to be out late tonight because of that book release, so have Isabelle come over, okay? Or go to hers." She said before rushing from the apartment with a smile and a wave.

Clary changed into her usual sweater and jeans combo, pulling on a long jacket and pulling back her tangled hair in a clip. She had to leave early to make it in for her meeting, so she exited the flat, pulling out her phone as she hit the brisk cold of the street.

"Hello?" A groggy voice came down the phone. "Clary?"

Clary laughed at her friend's delirium and looked at the empty road as she crossed the street.

"Yeah, its me Iz. I just wanted to say that I'm going to be in school early, so I don't need a lift." She stated, and she heard Izzy moan.

"Eugh, school early, that is truly disgusting." Isabelle said, and Clary laughed.

"Sorry to wake you, I just wanted to let you know." Clary said, and Isabelle scoffed.

"Yeah, yeah- whatever. Hey- I hope you're okay after yesterday." Isabelle stated as an after-thought. "I honestly thought that Magnus was going to break his no-violence rule." She continued groggily, and Clary shoved her free hand deep in her pocket.

"Yeah- I'm fine. If I'm being honest there are worse things that could happen than Sebastian spreading rumours about me. I can take it." Clary said, grinning. Isabelle laughed down the phone.

"You've changed a lot, Clary. In months- it's weird." Isabelle said, but before they could get into it there was a crash in the back ground. "Ah, sound like the boys are up. I'll see you in a bit." Isabelle said, hanging up before Clary could reply. Clary grinned at her friend's hustle.

"Typical." She muttered to herself, chuckling, and carried on her journey to school.

She was about half way when she felt the presence behind her, like someone walking in her steps. She slowed, and turned to look behind her- but there was no one there. The feeling carried on for the rest of the journey, and Clary found herself practically running to school, checking behind her every time she turned a corner. The streets were relatively empty, but that didn't stop the feeling of unease from gripping her every time she crossed paths with someone, every time someone stepped too close, and she felt relief wash over her as the school came into view. She crossed quickly into the carpark and sprinted up the stairs, a sense of fear as strong as in the club clawing up at her. She came crashing through the doors without abandon, and without looking where she was going. And as per usual, she ran straight into someone.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" Clary breathed, still looking behind her, and when she turned back she was shocked. "Magnus." She said, looking at the tall figure in front of her. His usual wild clothing was tame, and he was in what looked like his pyjamas. Clary looked up at his face and covered her mouth in shock.

"Oh, Magnus." She whispered, and he looked at the ground. He was shaking, and the sight of his bruised face told Clary that something bad had happened. Forgetting about her previous fear, and her appointment, Clary reached out and gripped his hand, leading him down the corridor and into the first bathroom she saw, dragging him behind her. When the door was shut she pushed him down onto the small ledge by the sink, so he was finally shorter than her, dropping her bag and grabbing a wad of paper towels, wetting them lightly.

Magnus had a split lip, a trail of blood from his nostril to his chin, and a blossoming bruise on his cheek. His clothes _were_ pyjamas, Clary realised, and his clothes were rumpled and stained. She moved over to him again, and he was still looking at the ground. She gently pressed the paper to his face, wiping away the blood as carefully as she could, and he barely flinched. His lack of makeup was unnerving, and he looked so young, so vulnerable. A bubble of anger swelled up within her.

"Who did this to you Magnus?" She said quietly, and his pale green eyes flicked up to hers, the frustration evident.

"I'm guessing saying I tripped wouldn't fly." He said without humour, and Clary pursed hr lips.

"Saying that would make me think it was your dad." She said in return, and the flash in his eyes confirmed her suspicion. "Ah." Magnus sighed and leant against the wall as she moved to grab more paper towels.

"I live on my own, haven't lived with him in years. But this morning he showed up at my door, drunk off his head, raging about god knows what. Beat the crap out of me, as usual, then left. I-" He flinched slightly at Clary's motions and she stilled, switching to cooler water. "I didn't want to stay there, so I just walked. Ended up here." He said.

Clary stopped her wiping and dried his face, unease settling around them.

"Do you want me to call Alec? To get you some clothes." Clary said carefully, and Magnus sighed again.

"I don't know if I can face that look again." He said, and Clary perched on the sink opposite him.  
"Yeah… I get that." She said quietly, and Magnus looked over to her.

"I know you do, shortcake." He said, and Clary raised an eyebrow. "I could tell, the first time we met. We've got a bond." He said, sourness colouring his tone.

"I'm going to call Alec; you need him." She said, and Magnus nodded sadly.

"I do. Just- please don't tell him how bad it is, just tell him to meet me here. Please." He finished, letting out a deep breath. "Sorry to be such a downer, biscuit. It's just not my day." He finished, and Clary shook her head, standing up and grabbing her phone.

"Don't apologise, okay. I'll be right back." She slipped out of the bathroom and dialled Isabelle's house phone, hoping that they were still there to pick up. She didn't want to disturb Isabelle again.

"Hello." A bored voice came down her phone, and Clary bit her lip to stop herself from crying; it was Jace.

"Hi, it's Clary." She said softly, covering her mouth with her hand. "Is Alec there?" She said.

"Uh- yeah, he's here. Is everything okay?" He replied in a low voice, and Clary shook her head even though he couldn't see her.

"I just, it's Magnus. I need to talk to Alec."

…..

Fifteen minutes later Clary was sitting beside Magnus, her arms wrapped around him, when Alec came storming through the bathroom door, the door handle smashing harshly against the wall. His frantic blue eyes swept across the room and landed on Magnus, and Clary leapt up quickly to let him forward.

"Oh God." He choked out, and Magnus stumbled to his feet, shakily wrapping his arms around his boyfriend. Clary looked down and decided that this was a discussion that wasn't meant for her ears, and as quietly as she could she left the room, holding in her gasp.

Outside of the door, opposite the bathroom, was Jace, eyes closed and leaning against the wall in his usual stance. His eyes flew open, sensing her presence, and he opened his arms as she approached him, wrapping her in his embrace. She was shaking hard, the emotions she had been trying not so show bubbling up and trying to escape. She choked down a sob, and he held her tighter.

"His dad." She choked out, shutting her eyes.

"I know." Jace said calmly.

"He… hurt him."

"I know, Alec explained." He let her grip the fabric of his jacket, breathe in his scent.

"It's so shitty. I… I'm… I'm angry. God, I'm furious. If I ever meet this man…" She trailed off, still shaking, trying not to cry. She pulled back. "I think I could kill him." She said, and Jace watched her with burning eyes.

"So could I." He said, and he pushed off from the wall, shrugging her bag onto his shoulder and slipping his hand into hers. "Come on." He said, starting off down the hall.

"Where are we going?" She asked, speeding up her walk to catch up with his long strides. He turned a corner.

"To get Izzy; she hates seeing Magnus like this, but she was worried about both of you." He looked back at her. "So was I."

"He's been like this before?" She asked, still moving quickly. Jace sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"He used to be like this all the time, and Isabelle-" He broke off, stopping in his tracks, and Clary spun to face him. His face was tight, visibly upset, and his mouth was set in a line. Clary searched his face, touching his arm gently.

"What is it?" She said quietly, her voice ghost like in the empty hallway. Jace looked up at the ceiling.

"She's really upset. And I hate it, I hate seeing her cry, especially when I can't help her; I feel so helpless too. And Magnus is family, and every time I see him like this…" He broke off, and Clary wrapped her arms around him, comforting him. She wondered if he would start crying, the way his voice had cracked.

"I'll talk to Izzy, don't worry." She, on her tiptoes so that she could reach his ear. She stepped back, watching him. "You go check on Alec, make sure no one goes in that bathroom. I think they need some privacy." She told him, and he nodded, giving her a final look before turning off down the hallway.

She sighed to herself and walked briskly back to the carpark; she had missed her appointment, but she doubted the counsellor would mind, and all she could think about was Magnus. She spotted Isabelle's car immediately, but she could tell that she hadn't driven herself because she was hunched in the back seat. Clary pulled the door open and slid in beside her, and Isabelle turned to look at her with red rimmed eyes. Her arms were open immediately and Clary pulled her in for a hug, gripping her tightly. There used to be a time when Clary hated people touching her, and now she liked the feeling of being held, being safe.

Isabelle sobbed into Clary's jacket, and Clary held her tightly, and when she was done she pulled bask, wiping her face with her sleeve.

"I'm sorry." Isabelle whispered, and Clary held her hand. "It's just; God, we thought all of this was over with, but how is he supposed to feel safe when his dad shows up at his door ready to beat him down."

She closed her eyes, bit her lip, then spoke again.

"Last year… I was dating this guy…" Isabelle said. "And, I mean, he wasn't the nicest. He shoved me around a lot, and Mags noticed the bruises straight away, told me never to see him again even though I was being stupid and stubborn and proud. Then he beat the crap out of him." Clary sucked in a breath at the story, gripping Izzy's hand tight. Tears rolled down Isabelle's cheeks once again. "Magnus, who hates violence, beat up a guy because he hurt me. That's the kind of person he is. And I'm so mad because I can't protect him." She finished, and Clary rubbed her arm.

"It's going to be okay Izzy; he has Alec, he has you, he's got all of us. And we'll do whatever we can to help." Clary said, watching her friend. "Are you okay?" She asked her, and Isabelle nodded, running a finger underneath her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine. Are you okay? I mean… you found him." Isabelle sniffed, looking at Clary meaningfully. Clary nodded.

"I just hope he's okay- will he have somewhere to stay tonight, somewhere safe?" She asked, and Isabelle nodded.

"He'll either stay with us, or Alec will stay with him." She replied, still wiping at her eyes. "God, shitty things keep happening." She said with a sigh, and looking out the window they could see that the school had become busy.

"Do you want to go in today?" Clary asked, watching her face, and Izzy nodded reassuringly.

"Magnus likes to pretend that everything is normal, so that's what we'll do." She replied, so Clary nodded, getting out of the car as Isabelle grabbed her bag.

"Hey, Clary." Isabelle said, pulling her stylish coat around her. "Where's your bag?" She asked. Clary looked to her side and realised that Jace still had it.

"Oh, Jace has it. I'll call him." She said, and Isabelle watched her curiously, still sniffing.

"Jace?" Isabelle said, and Clary nodded, phone to her ear. Then she blushed.

"I just… He was there with Alec, and I said I was coming to find you…" She trailed off, and Isabelle laughed, linking their arms.

"It's fine, Clary. Don't hurt your head over it; but when this blows over I will be bringing up that blush again." She said with a smirk, and Clary blushed harder as they made their way into school.

…

Their lunch table was full and talkative that day; usually Jordan and Jace wouldn't sit with them, and often Alec was at football practice, but after the morning's event's everyone had rallied round to support Magnus, and when Clary told Isabelle that she was home alone she was eager to invite herself and Simon over, with Magnus and Maia agreeing to come as well, which meant that Alec agreed to go as well. Jace just winked at her and told her he's skip this one.

After school they all squeezed into Clary's apartment, spreading themselves out on her couch or floor and turning on the TV, keeping he atmosphere loud and energetic in order to stop the underlying tension from breaking through the surface. Isabelle ordered pizza, something that Clary was beginning to get used to, and they sat around playing gin rummy for far too long.

"You cheated!" Maia screamed at Simon after their seventh game, throwing down her cards as Magnus cackled. "There is no way you won that, give me your cards." Maia said, reaching across the small coffee table and grabbing at Simon. He yelled at her.

"Don't get jealous, Roberts, it's just rummy." He threw the cards onto the table and leapt up, throwing himself onto the couch, squashing Clary in the process. She squealed.

"Stop!" She laughed. "You're squashing me." He dug his pointy elbows into her side as a response, trying to tickle her, and he only let up when a knock came at the door. They all pretended to ignore Magnus' flinch, and Clary kicked Simon out of her way.

"That'll be pizza." She said, and everyone went back to their game as she crossed the apartment to open the door.

But it wasn't the pizza guy.

"Jace?" She said, confusion colouring her tone. "What's wrong?"

His eyes were glassy, moving slowly and sluggishly, and he was leaning against the wall by her door. There was a small cut on his bottom lip, and as Clary watched him he seemed to sway uneasily.

"Jace…?" She said again, and his usually composed expression was marred with a lopsided smile. He reached out for her hand, his gold eyes sliding to look behind her, then back.

"Cla-ry." He slurred, and Clary immediately recoiled. He was drunk. He frowned at her rejection, reaching out again, and before she could shout at him in front of all of their friends she shoved him from the doorway, stepping out and pulling the door shut behind her. Jace looked hurt by her anger, and she crossed her arms over her chest, glowering in his direction.

"What the hell are you doing, Jace?" She asked him, watching him try to gain his balance on a spider plant growing in the hallway. He was a mess, and Clary didn't like it.

"I wanted to see you- and Magnus…" He trailed off, his grin sliding from his face like a melting ice sculpture. Clary could feel the anger, the hurt bubbling inside of her.

"Are you drunk?" She asked him quietly, and he just laughed.

"Drunk… drrunk." He said in a singsong voice, staring at his hands. He laughed. "Maybe." He finished, and Clary couldn't help but take a step further back from him.

"Seriously? You thought it was a good idea to show up to my apartment off your head; and yeah, Magnus is in here, but did you ever consider that maybe you showing up in the same state that his dad did might upset him? Because I don't think you did." Clary seethed, preparing to shout but trying not to. Dorathea would have a field day. She looked to the ground.

"I think you need to go, Jace. Call a cab, but I can't look after you with Magnus here." She said, wringing her hands. He looked up at her, the image of her fuzzy in his head, and he reached out. Only for her to step back in resignation. He let his hand drop again and turned away, stumbling back down the corridor and down the stairs. Clary felt awful for making him leave, but she felt even worse about the fact he had shown up like that in the first place. With a sigh she turned the handle to her door, stopping only when a pizza delivery guy came rushing up the stairs, three huge boxes in his hands.

…

At around ten everybody left her apartment, Magnus swooping down to kiss her cheek as he left. Alec had arrived to pick him up and drop a bag off for Isabelle, and then it was just the two of them in Clary's apartment, and it was only when they were alone that Clary finally let out the tears that had been threatening to spill during Jace's visit. Isabelle rushed to her side, frowning, eyes wide, and pulled her into a hug.

"Hey! Clary, what's up?" She said, and Clary tried to slow the panic within her.

"Jace." She managed to sniff out, gulping for breath, She didn't know how to explain, so Isabelle steered them to the couch where they sat themselves, intertwined.

"What about Jace, hun?" Isabelle asked again, worried about her friend. She knew something like this would happen. "Did he do something?"

Clary just sniffed, pulling back and wiping her eyes. She had to tell Izzy, she couldn't keep it to herself any longer.

"I kissed him." She whispered, looking at her hands. Isabelle sucked in a breath but stayed quiet. "Yesterday, I kissed him because I wanted his to, because I… I trusted him." She stopped. "I trusted him, and then he comes and shows up at my door… drunk…" She trailed off and looked up to Izzy with her big green eyes.

"I didn't let him in because I thought… I thought Magnus wouldn't like it. I didn't like it." She finished, sniffing and letting Isabelle rub her arm soothingly.

"Clary… I love you, and I love Jace, but he's…" Isabelle blew out a sharp breath. "He's trouble. Like, the kind you're friends with, but not the kind you trust to bail you out of a bad situation. He's the kind of guy to add gasoline to a fire." She said, rolling her eyes. Clary hiccupped.

"The thing is, he has been there for me. Which is why I trusted him…" She said quietly; could she still trust him? It wasn't even two days ago, but the kiss felt like a lifetime away, and already in her eyes he seemed like a different boy.

"He makes things worse; and I think he cares about you, but he's not… right for you." Isabelle said gently; she was going to be having stern words with Jace after tonight, and Clary seemed seriously shaken. She looked at her hands again, biting her lip.

"I think you're right." Clary whispered, touching a hand to her lips; it seemed her fleeting relationship with Jace was over before it had begun.

….

The next morning Isabelle was a storm, rushing through Clary's apartment and whisking them to school early; she claimed to have a headache the second that the bell for homeroom went, so Clary waved goodbye to her with tired eyes as Aline dragged her to homeroom, chatting about Helen's birthday plans. Knowing that Clary was safe, Isabelle ran back to her car and sped off in the direction of home; she already knew that Alec wasn't in, and she knew that Jace, after his bender, would be.

Crashing through the front door, the first thing she did was scream his name.

"Jace Herondale, you ass, come here right now!" Isabelle yelled, dropping her bags to the floor and stomping into the kitchen. Knowing that he would be a miserable son of a bitch with a hangover she put the coffee machine on, then stormed up the stairs.

"Jace!" She shrieked again, bursting into his room to see his tired face emerge from his covers. He shielded his eyes from the light and shot her a deathly glare.

"What the fuck do you want?" He asked her, rolling into and upright position and landing his feet on the floor. Isabelle stuck her hands on her hips, long hair streaming around her face.

"We need to talk about Clary." She said, watching the twitch in his face. "So either come downstairs, or I'll be back with a bucket of cold water."

She turned on her heel and exited his room, making her way into the kitchen and fixing two cups of coffee, then handing one to Jace as he trudged through the kitchen and took a seat at the bar. He grimaced.

"You really fucked up." Isabelle said, sipping her drink, and Jace raised his eyebrows.

"How's that?" He asked, tugging a hand through his hair. Isabelle rolled her eyes.

"Do you even remember any of last night?" She said incredulously and Jace grimaced.

"Yeah; I went out, got smashed, came home. It was a rough day." He said, eyes searching the room as if looking for a cigarette. Isabelle glared at him.

"More like; got smashed, made a scene at Clary's house, went home." Isabelle mocked, putting down her mug. Jace frowned.

"I wasn't at Clary's." He said. "I told her I wasn't coming…" He trailed off, then looked at his hands.

"You definitely were at Clary's- you scared the shit out of her, and then made her kick you out of her building. Do you know how fragile that girl is? How hard she's got it- she doesn't need you making her life worse." Isabelle said, getting heated up. A flush grew on Jace's neck.

"She's not glass, Izzy." He said, trying to hide the fury he was feeling toward himself. Isabelle waved her hands in frustration.

"I know she's not glass, but she is fragile. And you seem to be doing your best to fuck her up even more- she told me about the kiss." Isabelle said pointedly, crossing her arms. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I wasn't thinking, Izzy. I just thought, for once, I'd not think and I'd kiss a girl that I like more than I've ever liked a girl. I…" He rubbed a hand across his face, then looked his sister in the eye. "She asked me, Iz. She asked, she said she wanted it. How am I supposed to refuse that girl anything?" He muttered, clenching his fists. What had he done?

"Well, I hope for both of your sakes that she takes my advice," Isabelle said, pouring the rest of her coffee into the sink. "Because you both have some serious issues that you need to deal with before you get involved."

Jace's heart stopped

"What do you mean, advice?" He said, and Isabelle glared at him. "What did you say to her, Izzy." He growled. She sighed.

"I told her the truth; that you aren't right for her." She said, and Jace felt like he was chewing on rocks, swallowing them slowly. He gulped.

"And what did she say?" He whispered, and for the first time Isabelle's expression softened in sympathy for him. She looked him in the eye.

"She agreed."

…

After Isabelle had ditched her at school, Clary had an uneventful day, but Simon (who was on drop off duty) seemed to sense that Clary was upset, and so instead of taking her straight home he took her to the comic book store that he and Eric frequented. He thought it would be funny; he didn't realise that Clary would light up like a Christmas tree around the paraphernalia, and he didn't realise that they could spend a good hour talking comics.

"Spiderman?" Simon said incredulously. " _He's_ your favourite? No, I'm not having this- I refuse." Simon said, shaking his head as Clary laughed indignantly.

"What's wrong with Spiderman?" She laughed, and Simon pretended to plug his ears, and he swatted her.

"Spiderman is a joke- he's a cocky bastard, enough said." Simon huffed, pulling at the comics on the shelf. Clary tutted.

"You're just jealous." She said tauntingly, and Simon placed a hand over his heart.

"Clary Fray, I will have you know that I am a far cockier bastard than Spiderman ever could be- I just don't like him." He mocked, and Clary laughed harder. "I didn't know you were a comic fan…" Simon said, watching her. An odd expression crossed her face.

"My brother was a big comic nerd… he used to get the old ones from the thrift store for like, 5 cents." She said, smiling wistfully. Simon frowned.

"I didn't know you have a brother." He said, watching her and wondering if he lived in their tiny apartment. Her smile slipped slightly, but held on.

"I did- he passed away. It was a long time ago." She confirmed, giving him the side eye to watch his expression. He just nodded ruefully- she remembered that he had lost his father, and the feeling must be similar.

"Were you guys close?" Simon asked, picking up another comic and flicking through. Clary grinned; it felt good to remember the positive things, to talk about them.

"He was the best- he was nearly ten years older than me, but I adored him. He was my hero. He used to let me tag along with everything, carting me around on the handles of his bike. Mom said she should fit a basket on the front for me." Clary said, and Simon laughed. There was an ache in her chest, and she thought about her dream. She was fine; and so was he.

"I'd pay to see you on handlebars; you're like the clumsiest person I know- after myself, of course." Simon stated, and Clary grinned. It was nice talking to Simon, because there wasn't a lot of pity in his eyes. Just understanding. She looked to her watch.

"Oh crap!" She said, grabbing her bag from the floor. "I need to get back; my mom is expecting a delivery." Clary said, waving at him- they were close to her apartment, and Simon was supposed to walk her home, but he was absorbed in a comic. He waved her off, and she set off down the open streets for home. Her mother was beginning to get into art again, and Clary had helped her choose a meagre selection from the local art store to be delivered to their apartment, and Clary couldn't wait for

There were a few crowds, and Clary felt jostled every time someone bumped into her. But she made it to her apartment quickly and rushed up the stairs, hoping that she hadn't missed the delivery. But she needn't have worried, because the package was on the doorstep when she arrived. Picking it up, surprised at the lightweight, and unlocking the door she entered the apartment, dropping the box onto the kitchen table and heading to take a shower. It had been a stressful week already, and there was one thing that she had been avoiding thinking about.

Jace.

The way he had looked the previous night had her shaken up; she didn't like drunk Jace, in fact she didn't really like drunk anyone after the way that her father got when he had had a drink. She grimaced at the thought and stripped off her clothes, getting ready to climb into the shower, when she caught a glimpse of her body in the mirror. She usually refrained from looking because it repulsed her so badly, but for the first time in a long time, she took a long, hard stare.

She was short, her figure like a stick, and she could permanently see her ribs sticking out. Her face was plain, pale and freckled, and her green eyes clashed horribly with her red hair. She wished that she was statuesque like her mother, or strawberry blonde like her brother. Instead she was a walking cartoon and it made her uncomfortable; she had met Kaelie, she knew what Jace was used to. Tall, busty, blonde. Beautiful. All things that she wasn't.

She glanced at her body again and stopped herself from looking away. The puckered burns on her arms and legs had long since lost their purple hue, now just echoes of bad memories, taut pink skin raised in the shape of a star, dozens scattered across her body. She stared at the long, thin scar on her stomach, tracing the line with her finger. It didn't hurt anymore, but the longer she looked at it, the longer she thought she could see the yellow and purple bruises flecked across her body. She blinked hard and turned the shower on, looking away from the mirror and scalding away the memories under the hot water.

How could anyone love a body like hers? How could she be with someone like Jace, when she was so broken…

… 

When Clary exited the shower, pulling her robe tightly around her, she was surprised to hear a knocking at the door. Her mother had a key, and no one was due round. Pulling her robe tighter she frowned, moving to answer the door; the knocker was impatient and she rushed to pull the door open.

"Delivery."

The man in front of her was young, with a thick accent and a clipboard in his hands. He was holding it out for a signature, a small box under his arm.

"Sign, please." He said, holding out a pen. Clary frowned, confused.

"We didn't order…" She began, but seeing the logo on the box made her stop; it was from Wellworth's, the art shop. Frowning still she signed the paper from the impatient delivery guy and took the box from him with numb fingers: her mother avoided buying anything online, as they didn't tend to use credit cards (too telling) so the arrival of two deliveries, one unexpected, threw her. Shutting the door tightly she shuffled into the living room, placing the box on the coffee table and turning to the kitchen table. She grabbed a knife from the kitchen and used it to slit open the packing tape, dropping it to the side and pulling open the box. She held her breath at the contents.

There was a large rock taped to the bottom, holding down an envelope. She sucked in a breath. Pulling the edges of the tape and removing the rock she grabbed the envelope, tearing it open. Inside was a piece of paper, and one photograph.

It was of her mother, laughing as she left the diner. Once again it was obvious that her mother had no idea this had been taken, and Clary felt the fear consume her. They weren't safe. But she wasn't running this time. Dropping the photograph back into the box Clary shuddered, opening the paper.

' _I'm watching you._

 _Meet me tomorrow, 8 AM._

 _Keep this between us or she gets hurt_.'

It was signed with a kiss, typed onto the paper, and below the message was a messily scrawled address. Clary sucked in a breath- it was starting.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I'm just going to keep this coming for as long as I can because I have some final exams coming, but I couldn't wait to post these chapters! This one may need editing, but let me know what you think!**

Jace waited for her the next morning, knowing what he would have to do; sometimes feelings were so damn complicated. He was messed up over a girl, and he had messed up _with_ said girl- Clary. God, how could he have been so dumb as to show up at her door off his face; every time a situation made him feel out of control he went and did something like this.

When he had looked in the mirror that morning all he could think about was the bags under his eyes and the cut on his lip- how did it even get there? He didn't even know who he was anymore.

Isabelle had chewed him the night before, and as Jace stood by the entrance, smoking cigarette after cigarette, his eyes couldn't stop searching the crowd for Clary. What he had to say to her would break him a little inside, but it had to be done. He waited longer than he expected, and he had nearly made it through half a pack when the bell for the end of homeroom went; Isabelle's car wasn't there yet, and Clary hadn't turned up. He frowned; maybe they had come in another way- Isabell had left to get Clary early enough and he had already seen Simon lope into school, ignoring him as usual. He rubbed a hand through his hair, watching.

It was five minutes into first period when Isabelle's car finally pulled into school, and Jace watched from afar as she exited her car alone. He frowned, the dull ache in his chest worsening; he didn't want to prolong this feeling. Isabelle headed toward school, phone in hand, and Jace flicked his cigarette to the ground, shoving his hands in his pockets, and walked toward her. Her eyes were glued to her phone and she was rushing, her heels clacking unapologetically against the tarmac. He called out to her, and she looked up with tired brown eyes.

"Have you seen Clary?" She asked, not keeping eye contact. Jace shook his head, and Isabelle rolled her eyes. "This is _not_ like her. I was supposed to pick her up, maybe she came in early again." She said, and Jace groaned. Of course he had been waiting outside when she had been inside the school the whole time. He fell into step beside his sister.

"So, you gonna talk to her today?" Isabelle said, and Jace rubbed his neck.

"Yeah… I figure its better to get it over with." He said without emotion, and Isabelle shot him a tired look.

"I'm sorry, Jace. I know you didn't like what I had to say… it's just… I care about her." Isabelle said as they entered the school, and Jace let out a humourless laugh.

"Don't worry Iz, I get it. I'm a no- good whore- the wrong kind of boy." He said, turning in the opposite direction, and Izzy stopped in her tracks, rolling her eyes.

"Don't be like that." She said after him, but he held up a hand.

"I'll get over it, Izzy. Just leave it." Jace finished, stalking off down the hallway, swearing to himself as he went. He would talk to Clary at lunch.

But when lunch came, his plans changed.

….

The address was a coffee shop.

As Clary walked in at 7:55am she knew that something wasn't right; this isn't how her father played games. Sure, in the past her father had left things at their door- dead things- but leading her to a public place wasn't his style. It was more like him to get her somewhere alone.

She shuddered at the thought and pushed the door open, sucking a breath deep into her lungs. This may be the last time she was free, maybe alive, but she would do anything for her mother after all this time. A numb feeling settled around her, tranquillity in the face of death, and she entered the shop, tucking her phone into the pocket of her jacket, strength filling her.

Only, once again, the pair of black eyes that she was greeted with were not who she expected. Sitting in the back of the café, eyes wide and eager, was Sebastian Verlac, arms crossed and grinning. There was an envelope in front of him, and Clary felt bile rise in her throat; she walked over to him, pulling her coat tighter, and sat down slowly in front of him.

"What have you done?" She whispered, and Sebastian leant back in his chair, smirking. This wasn't what she expected, and the confusion was rolling over her in sharp, uncomfortable waves. "Sebastian…" She trailed off, barely able to speak.

"I heard Isabelle and that half caste girl talking the other day." He said matter of factly, stirring the coffee beside him. "They were talking about photographs of you that you had been sent, about you being freaked out by someone stalking you. And when you decided to ignore me, I thought I might have a go… see if you were scared." He laughed, and Clary pushed her chair back in shock. He sounded insane. "Are you scared?" He asked, and Clary looked around the room for help; Sebastian was twisted, blackmailing Clary for embarrassing him. He was crazy.

"What do you want." She said carefully, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Why did you do this? I could go to the police-" She said, moving to stand up, raising her voice. Sebastian interrupted.

"But you won't- Izzy said you won't go to the police about anything, because you don't trust them. And why would they believe you? Why would I want to take photos of your mother…" Sebastian grinned, and Clary felt sick to her stomach.

"Why _did_ you do this?" She whispered, and Sebastian shrugged.

"For fun." He said, and Clary gagged, standing up.

"That's so sick Sebastian.. how did you, how did you even find my mom at work? You've never met her…" It began to dawn on her the weirdness of the entire situation, and she became aware of her laboured breaths. She looked at him, his calm expression. "Don't you get how fucked up this is?" She hissed at him, not bothering if the one other customer saw their standoff. She turned to leave, but Sebastian pushed the envelope her way.

"Ah, ah, ah…" He said, offering it to her. She raised her eyebrows, but her just sat back in his seat. "You'll want to see these."

She picked up the envelope tentatively; it was the same type that had been in the box, and she tried not to think about the fact that Sebastian knew her address. Pulling it open with shaking fingers, she reached in and picked up what she now knew were photographs. Only now did Clary acknowledge that these were cheap, not shiny like the original photographs all those days ago, as if they had been printed on a home computer. She pulled them out, and her eyes welled up at the images.

It was her, in the girl's locker room at school; she had taken to changing after everyone left, no matter how late it made her. She thought that would ensure her being left alone, give her privacy. She was wrong. The photos were of her, topless and pale, like some sort of lurid portrait, and they were once again taken without her knowing. She sank back into the seat, no longer caring.

"Who did this." She said, her voice low and pained. Sebastian smiled.

"Kaelie, obviously. She's really taken a disliking to you." He replied with a grin, and Clary laid a hand on her forehead as she looked at the remaining two photos. Her puckered flesh was on full display, and the long, thin scars looked even more purple in the camera. What was her life becoming?

"What do you want?" She said, looking up.

"I'm glad you asked; I want you to be my girlfriend." He said, and Clary blanched.

"Are you joking?" She gasped. "No, no, you sick pervert. Why would you think that's okay?" She said, aghast, but he raised an eyebrow.

"Because if you don't agree to be my bitch, these photographs go up all over the school." Sebastian said, and Clary thought she might throw up.

"Fine, do it- see if I care." She said, making to stand up again.

"And the police get these photos- I think they would be interested to know how you got these disgusting marks, and it won't take much for those thick fucks to assume it was your mother. Would you care about that?" He said. Bastard.

"You wouldn't dare." She said tightly, but he had come this far. She saw something flash in his eyes. "Why are you doing this?" She asked, and his shit eating grin was back.

"You should have just done what I asked, when I asked you. I can get mean." He said, standing up to leave. "Come on, I'll take us to school." He said, as if his actions were perfectly normal.

He walked out of the shop, and Clary was left staring at the photographs in her hands. Could she call Izzy? She really didn't care if the whole school saw the photographs… or did she? But she definitely cared if Jace ever saw the truth, saw what she was. She grimaced at the thought, and didn't give herself time to wonder why she cared so much about Jace

Mostly, she cared about her mother; she couldn't risk the prospect of her being in danger. But she also knew that she wasn't going to follow Sebastian's rules. That was something that she would never do;

so, thank God she didn't have to.

Grinning to herself, Clary pulled her phone from inside of her coat, ending the recording. The night before, when she had decided that she was going to face her fears and meet her father, she had created her own plan of action- she was going to keep her phone recording during their meeting ad get her father to confess, or record him as he enacted his revenge, and through some miracle deliver it to the police. The relief of the situation dawned on her; her father wasn't here, he wasn't threatening her mother. It was just a sociopathic schoolboy with narcissistic tendencies, and that was scary. But she had been through worse.

The drive to school was the most uncomfortable that Clary had been in a long time; she didn't have the opportunity to run past Sebastian, and he had forced her into his car, spending the whole journey with a hand on her leg. She grimaced, feeling a sense of hope rise in her as the school came into view.

"Stay by my side." Sebastian muttered, helping her from the car. "I want Herondale to see this, that son of a bitch." He hugged Clary close to his side, slinging an arm around her, and Clary grimaced- if she weren't so uncomfortable she would laugh at the absurdity of the situation. They made their way into school, and as the rushing crowds moved around them Clary could tell that they were watching her; she tried not to care; after what she was about to do she figured that there would soon be pictures of her up across the school. The time for caring about image was up.

Sebastian was grinning at someone, and the sick bastard was enjoying the thought of tormenting Clary. The second he got distracted by one of his goons, Clary ducked under his arm and made a break for it, skidding down the hall and toward the front office. She heard someone calling her name, but she was off. And when she reached the same receptionist she had seen on her first day, she pulled her phone from her pocket along with the photographs.

"I need to talk to the Principal." Clary said, out of breath. She glanced over her shoulder, watching Sebastian's glare from down the hall. She gasped, turning back. "Right now."

…

It was past one by the time Clary had finished telling her story; she hadn't showed them the pictures, but the recording was incriminating enough. She talked to Mrs Blackthorne, the strict but gentle Principal, for over an hour, trying at first to skirt around the situation, trying to censor what he had done. But a stern look from the Principal had her telling the whole truth; the first time she had rejected him, the fight with Alec, the second time she had rejected him. She told her about him watching her, and then she told her about the threat, and the café.

After she had told it once, she had to tell it three more times, a guidance counsellor and a security guard sitting in with her. And when she was done, she was relieved to hear that they believed her. Rarely did luck swing her way.

"So… you believe me?" Clary said, feeling out of her comfort zone in the large plush chair, surrounded by smooth white walls. It was just her and the Principal again. She was only slightly older than her mother, and her heart shaped face and thin lips gave her a face made to be a high school principal. She bit her lip, and the woman in front of her sighed heavily.

"Look, can I be honest Clary?" Mrs Blackthorne said, clasping her hands. Clary nodded nervously. "We've all been looking for a reason to get rid of that kid for a long time, but his mother is on the Board and has a lot of influence. But this is more than just aggression- he's committed a crime, tried to blackmail you, harass you." She shook her head. "His mother will remove him, if not we will get the police involved-" She help up a hand as Clary tried to protest- they had already discussed that Clary didn't want the police involved. "-just to get her to realise how serious this is. And Kaelie will be duly punished." She finished with a grim look. Clary sighed with relief; never before in her life had she dealt with a situation like this, had she _dealt_ with a situation. It was like a weight had been lifted; especially since twelve hours ago she believed that she was headed to her certain demise. She could laugh at how stupid it all seemed now.

"And no one will know I said anything? People are talking about me enough as it is…" Clary said, and the warm smile that she received was telling enough. She moved to get her bag, ready to leave, and Mrs Blackthorne spoke again.

"One last thing- can we have the note? If you have it." She said, and Clary nodded carefully, handing over the photo of her mother and the original note. Mrs Blackthorn's smile tightened.

"I'd rather not hand over the photo of me…" Clary said, wringing her hands. "Hey, maybe they'll be plastering the school when Sebastian finds out." She said without humour, and Mrs Blackthorne nodded grimly.

"Of course. Thank you, Clary. We'll deal with this as discreetly as possible." She said, and Clary exited the office with a lighter heart. The hallways were clear, and pulling her bag over her shoulder she made her way to the cafeteria, ready to spill her guts to Isabelle; she knew it was coming.

"Where have you been?"

Clary stopped in her tracks at the voice, an all too familiar hostility coming toward her. She turned around.

"Jace." She said quietly, greeted by his tall figure standing alone in the hallway, a face like thunder. He was mad?

"So." He said, and she raised an eyebrow.

"So, what?" She asked, cocking a hip.

"Where were you." He asked, watching her with guarded eyes, but before she could answer he was talking again. "Because I heard from everyone that you arrived late wrapped up with Sebastian." He spat. Clary felt her jaw physically drop. He was mad at _her_.

"Are you mad at _me_?" She hissed, moving to close the gap between them, hoping no nosy freshmens were listening in. "First of all, Jace, let's not forget who showed up at my door pissed out of their mind. That was you." She spat, and Jace raised an eyebrow. "And if I thought that I didn't know you yesterday, I definitely don't know you now. Because if you think that I would willingly be 'wrapped up' with Verlac then you are out of your damn mind." She finished, shaking her head and turning away.

"So you aren't going to deny it?" Jace said, anger bubbling beneath the surface. Clary spun on him again.

"I can't believe you just said that." She said, gripping her hair, laughing. "I actually can't believe this. Jace Herondale, stay away from me." She said, hot frustration suffocating her heartache. Screw him, if he wanted to assume the worst of her.

"Oh, I was planning on it." He replied with a glare, and the rise and fall of Clary's chest faltered. She blinked hard, green eyes glowing.

"You're going to find out the truth, Jace, and then you are going to owe me one _hell_ of an apology." She said with a resounding finality, turning on her heel and walking away from him; she was beginning to see the flaws in their toxic relationship. No matter how much she wanted him, she didn't trust him anymore. And if there wasn't trust there was just empty space and bad decisions.

She made it to the cafeteria in a rage, the previous victory she had felt melting away like snow. But then it dawned on her again, and she couldn't help the enormous grin on her face as she spotted Isabelle at their table. Isabelle didn't look so happy.

"No calls? No texts? I love you, hun, but you're throwing me for a loop!" Isabelle said as she approached, and Maia and Aline tried to stifle their laughter. Clary slumped down in the seat beside her, her smile still fixed.

"You are not going to believe what I did."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: There may be a thousand mistakes in here, but the story is what matters. Thank you all for your kind words and be sure to check out my new story, 'A Simple Life', a story that's a little more light hearted. This chapter may seem a little rushed, but there was so much I wanted to write about. Anyway- read, review, enjoy- you all make my day!**

 **Chapter 9**

"I'm still in shock about the whole club thing." Aline said, lying face up on Isabelle's bed. Clary sighed from her position next to her. "I am so sorry."

All of a sudden Aline sat up, and Isabelle looked up curiously from the cup of coffee in her hand. Clary frowned.

"You don't need to be sorry…" Clary said, confused, but Isabelle, Maia and herself were all even more shocked when Aline burst into tears. Isabelle sprang up, moving to sit on her bed, and Clary touched Aline's shoulder. She was gasping, sobbing, and her usual cool composure was replaced with red faced discomfort. Maia was on her feet immediately, kneeling on the bed beside her best friend.

"Al?" Maia asked alarmed, but Aline just shook her head, accepting the tissue offered to her by Isabelle.

"I… am… so… sorry…" Aline said, her heavy gasps punctuating her words. The girls shared a look.

"Aline…" Clary whispered. "What's going on?" Aline continued sobbing, and when she turned her watery brown eyes on Clary she choked back her tears.

"I could've stopped him… a long time ago." She choked out, and Maia frowned.

"What do you mean?" She said, and Aline put her head in her hands.

"He used to… say things…" Aline said, rubbing her temples. "He used to say disgusting things about girls all the time, and he used to try and-" She choked, then coughed. "Try to get me to do things. I wanted to tell my mom, or his, but my aunt and my mom don't get along great and I didn't want to cause trouble. I just went along with it, pretended to be his friend so he wouldn't try to hurt me…" She trailed off, then burst out again. "But instead he hurt you, Clary- I am so, so sorry."

Everyone was quiet for a minute, listening to the quiet snuffle of Aline. And then Clary spoke.

"This was _not_ your fault." She said quietly, rubbing her shoulder. "There is something wrong with that boy, and what he did to me wasn't your fault. And the way that he treated you wasn't your fault either…" She trailed off, and Aline sniffed again.

"You never told your mom?" Izzy said, handing Aline another tissue. She shook her head.

"She had so much going on… with the divorce and the move, I never wanted to cause a rift between her family."

"I am so glad that bastard is getting kicked out- he should be arrested, that creep." Maia raged, her dark skin colouring red. "And don't ever blame yourself again, or I won't be able to stop myself from beating the hell out of him." She continued, and Aline sniffed, finally finished crying.

"I just feel so guilty, I had no idea he would ever do anything like this." Aline said, turning to Clary. The four of them sat in silence for a minute, trying to comfort their friend. Isabelle is the one that spoke next.

"What's gonna happen to Kaelie?" Isabelle said, trying to divert the subject, and Clary shrugged.

"Maybe nothing… she only mentioned Sebastian." Clary said, looking down. She realised that, once Sebastian was gone, there was the possibility that Kaelie would still be out for blood. "Look, if it does get to this, I just want you to know that I'm fine. No matter what those photos look like… I'm fine." She finished, and everyone looked at her curiously, Aline's eyes red rimmed. Maia burst into laughter, and it wasn't long before they were all in fits.

"Its never dull with you guys around." Maia cried, lying on her back and giggling, and Isabelle sighed.

"Well I for one need a drink after all this excitement." Isabelle said, ducking under her bed and pulling out a bottle of vodka that was already half empty. Aline laughed, eyes still watery, and reached out for the bottle.

….

It was game night; not that Jace cared all that much about football, but Jordan had invited him over to watch the game, and since the rest of the team had agreed they he figured it would be a good distraction for the overwhelming rage that was stirring inside of him, and as they piled onto Jordan's couches he tried to keep from jumping his leg and rubbing his neck. He didn't really know a lot of the team well, but they were friendly enough considering they all played together, and the chat flowed easily throughout the night.

"Did you hear about Sebastian?" One of the guys- Raphael?- said to Jordan, and he nodded.

"Yeah, Maia called me earlier- that is so out of line. I always knew he was a bit of a dick, but he is seriously twisted." Jace's ear perked up at this, and he looked to Jordan.

"What happened?" He asked, trying to remain nonchalant, but the look of disgust on Jordan's face proved something was up.

"You know Clary?" He said, and Jace blanched- of course it had to do with her, she was everywhere he looked. He nodded grimly, and Jordan continued. "Turns out Verlac had some twisted obsession with her- he had these photos of her and her mom, blackmailing her with them. If she hadn't had the balls to go to the Principal about it then who knows what he would have done."

Jace sucked in a breath.

"When did this all happen?" He asked next, and Raphael shrugged.

"I think this morning- we all saw her come in with Sebastian, then take off down the hall to the office. She had the right ides- he is one twisted fucker." Raphael said, and Jace was on his feet in seconds. "Hey, where are you going? The games not over yet." He said, confused, and Jordan just waved him off, shouting a goodbye as Jace ran out of the door. Maia had texted him, saying that Clary had mentioned Jace accusing her of some shit, and he liked that little redhead too much to not try and get Jace to apologise. And in predictable Jace fashion, the second he had found out that Clary was in trouble he was out like a flash. Jordan grinned, turning back to the game and texting Maia to let her know the outcome.

Jace was already halfway home by the time Isabelle finally picked up her phone.

"Jace?" She said groggily, her voice filling his car through the speakers, and he rolled his eyes.

"You are so wasted." He groaned, and Isabelle laughed.

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you brother." She giggled, and he sucked in a breath.

"Where's Clary?" He said, eyes fixed on the road, and he heard shouting in the background.

"Why do you want to know?" She spat, and he groaned.

"None of your damn business, Izzy. Is she there?" He continued, and he heard Izzy huff indignantly.

"Yeah, she's here, asshole, hurry up and get home because she needs a designated driver for a lift home." Isabelle said, and then hung up; if he wasn't so afraid of his sister he would have chewed her out for that comment, but as it stood he knew what that girl was capable of.

He was in for a surprise when he pulled into the driveway; Clary was standing outside the front door watching out for him, and the second he pulled up she walked toward the passenger side, opening the door and climbing in.

"You're taking me home." She said, buckling up and sitting with her eyes forward. Jace gripped the steering wheel tighter, that same feeling of rage that had been burning inside of him for a week only quelled by her calm voice; he didn't say a word, simply setting off and keeping his hands to himself. But he wasn't taking her home; she didn't notice at first, but when he took he second wrong turn, Clary turned to him.

"We're going the wrong way." She stated, and he ignored her, turning again toward his destination. "Jace?" She said, agitated and when they came into view of a small park Clary widened her eyes. "Jace! Take me home right now!"

He pulled up in a parking spot, ignoring her look of disbelief, and only once they were parked did he turn to her.

"I heard about Sebastian." He said quietly, watching her expression. Her eyebrows were practically in her hair, and her arms were folded. "I owe you an apology." She laughed, turning her burning gaze onto him.

"You owe me more than that." She spat, turning back to look through the windshield, and Jace ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.

"And I'm sorry for turning up at yours when Magnus was there. I was drunk, I barely remember it. I didn't mean to scare you." He said quietly, and Clary let her eyes close.

"You seem to be drunk a lot." She said, turning back to look at him, and Jace gripped the back of his neck. "I want an explanation, or I'm leaving now and walking home." She said, and Jace sighed; she rolled her eyes to move and exit the car, but Jace leant over her and slammed the door shut.

"Okay! Okay, wait." He said, breathing hard; he was still close to her, and he could smell her strawberry shampoo. Focusing, he leant back into his seat. "I've been a mess this last week, and I know it. I've been a prick to everyone." He said with a sigh, and Clary could see something in his expression, in the vulnerability of his voice. She watched him carefully. "I haven't got an excuse; all I can say is that this time of year makes me so… mad. I can't control myself, and when Magnus got hurt I felt so helpless, like I was a kid again, I couldn't cope. I couldn't take it, so I drank."

"What's this time of year?" Clary said carefully, watching him, and he was visibly shaking. There was still anger in her, and frustration, but right now he was scaring her and her need to be close to him overwhelmed her. "What's going on?" She asked again, and Jace looked her in the eye, something burning behind his own- something that she recognised.

"Its my mom's birthday this weekend. And the day after is the day my parents died." She drew in a sharp breath, a sense of cold filling her; he wouldn't stop looking at her, like if he stopped then everything around him would crumble apart.

"Oh… Jace." She said quietly, knowing that nothing she could say would help.

"I used to just lock myself in my room for a week, but I got older and that didn't fly anymore. So, I carry on and pretend like I'm not being crushed on the inside." He said quietly, finally looking away. Clary swallowed, reaching out and gripping his hand.

"You should have told someone. Does your family know?" She whispered, and the look that crossed his face told her the answer. "You should tell them… they would do anything for you." She continued, and there was a tremble in his fingers. She squeezed his hand. "Jace. I… I forgive you."

He looked back at her and shook his head.

"You shouldn't forgive me… I did exactly what I said I would. I fucked up. As usual; I just wanted you to know that I would never scare you on purpose." He said, and Clary sighed. And Jace watched in horror as she began to cry. "Oh… shit, Clary look-"

He tried not to be shocked as she undid her seatbelt and threw her arms around him, shaking slightly.

"I'm… sorry…" She whispered. "I know nothing I can say will make it better but I'm so sorry you're hurting." She said, pulling back; Jace was thankful to see that she the tears that were threatening hadn't spilt.

And then she smacked his arm; Jace widened his eyes in indignance.

"What was that for!" He yelled, watching Clary buckle up her seatbelt. She smiled.

"That's for getting drunk on my doorstep." She said. "And this-" She smacked him again, Jace jumping in his seat. "-is for thinking that I would ever, in my right mind, go out with Sebastian Verlac." She said darkly, and Jace nodded.

"Okay, that was fair…" He said, and he couldn't help that laugh that erupted; Clary glanced at him sideways, grinning and giggling as well, and he thought in that moment he had never heard something so beautiful.

"Now- take me home Jace." She said firmly, brushing the hair from her face. She kept her eyes forward, and Jace turned out of the lot; the whole time that he was driving he couldn't help sneaking glances at her face, the way she bit her lip, the soft look in her eyes as she stared at her hands. And as he drove up her street, he realised that the dull ache that had been burning through his chest had subsided, just sitting there with her.

"Here's fine." Clary said, and Jace realised that he had nearly reached her home. He stopped the car and pulled over, turning to her as he stopped the engine. There it was again; the spark in the air that was drawing him in. Her wide green eyes were fixed on his and she felt inexplicably close. He leant forward, brushing a stray piece of hair from her face. He leant in further, dipping his head and waiting for her.

"Jace." She whispered, and she leant back, breaking the moment. "I can't."

He felt his heart drop.

"That's fine…" He said, pulling back. "I understand…" She wrung her hands in frustration.

"No- I like you, Jace. And obviously I want to be friends with you; I just don't think that I can trust you right now. And I'm so sorry for that, but I can't." She said quietly, and Jace sighed.

"Ouch. I know it's my own fault… but ouch." He replied, and Clary smiled sadly, stepping from the car. Jace watched her walk onto the sidewalk and she waved as he rolled down his window.

"Hey-" He shouted. "-I'm going to make this up to you, okay? I'll be someone you can trust." He stated, and Clary raised her eyebrows.

"Thanks for the lift, Jace." She said, watching as he pulled away, and she smiled at his retreating figure. "Thanks."

….

If actions spoke louder than words, then Clary was glad that no one in the school was comfortable slapping her nine ways to Sunday; the whispers were loud enough. It became apparent the next day that everyone was aware of the reason for Sebastian and Kaelie's disappearance, and the atmosphere was tense; Clary was shocked to find herself once again face to face with Meliorn, the catalyst for her embarrassment.

"Clary." He said, standing behind Clary's locker as she shut the door; people were watching her once again, and she could feel the eyes on her.

"What do you want?" She said, the wariness apparent in her tone. He grimaced.

"I wanted to apologise; Sebastian told me all this stuff about you… then he said he would kick me off the football team if I didn't say that stuff…. Izzy already chewed me out because of it. Obviously we all know what a dick he is now."

Clary blanched; of all the things that she had expected, she hadn't expected an apology.

"Can you forgive me?" He said. "Because Isabelle would kill me if she knew I hadn't apologised." He smiled nervously, and Clary found herself nodding her head.

"Consider yourself forgiven." She said warmly, knowing that she would get nowhere carrying around baggage like that. "Just don't do it again, okay?" She said with a laugh, and Meliorn chuckled nervously, rubbing his neck.

"Yeah… I wouldn't dare; not with your guard dogs around anyway. Sorry again- see you around Clary." He said, and with a wave he was gone. Clary watched curiously… guard dogs?

"What was that about?"

Clary jumped at the sound, turning to see Simon standing beside her, a curious look on his face. She grinned.

"Looks like my sterling reputation is intact; he came and apologised… people believe me." She said, walking with him toward English. Simon bumped her shoulder.

"Obviously they believe you, everyone secretly knew what that douchebag could do- you just provided the evidence." He replied, and Clary eyed up a pair of cheerleaders that were giving her the evils.

"Apparently news spreads fast." Clary muttered, and Simon laughed.

"It's a disease, really. Hey- I got you something to cheer you up." He said, handing her a thin paper bag as they reached her room. She accepted it with a grin and a questioning look.

"What is this?" She asked as people brushed past them; Simon shrugged, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"Just something that I found at home; I thought maybe it would cheer you up from all of the drama." He said with a smile, and Clary pulled out the contents; it was a limited-edition copy of the Spiderman comic that she had been looking at with Simon, and a wide grin of disbelief spread across her face.

"What… How?" She said, the smooth feel of the paper familiar in her hands. Simon shrugged.

"I was given it as a present ages ago; and you know how much I hate Spiderman." He replied, grinning, and Clary threw her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek (with great difficulty due to his height) and trying not to crumple the comic. She was beaming.

"Thank you so much, Si." She whispered, and then pulled back as the late bell rang. "I love it."

Simon grinned, patting her on her head and shooting a wink through the door at Isabelle before stalking off to his own class. Clary stood still, grinning like a fool, only going in to her class when she was dragged in by Maia.

…..

"A… party?" Clary said curiously, passing a bottle of water between her hand. "I don't think so, Izzy."

Aline groaned, passing ten dollars to Maia who was grinning.

"Honestly Fray, I was betting on you to make the right decision." Aline said with a dirty look, and Magnus laughed.

"Come on Clary- it's in honour of you!" Isabelle said with a grin, and Clary choked.

"Me! What did I do?" She said.

"You got rid of the biggest skeeze in the entire school; that deserves a celebration." She grinned, and everyone nodded in agreement. "Oh, come on! You can come to mine before, and Maia and Aline are staying over afterwards so we can do our Starkweather essays in the morning… I really need something fun." Isabelle said, and Clary looked on with wide eyes. Something flashed across Isabelle's face, and a moment later she was up and rushing out of the cafeteria. Clary met Maia's worried expression and jumped up too, following her friend through crowded groups of teenagers to the girl's bathroom just as a group of disgruntled freshmen were exiting. Isabelle was in front of the mirror, fixing the smudged black under her eyes; she tried to fake a smile as Clary walked in.

"Who eats their lunch in the toilets, right?" She sniffed, still dabbing at her eyes.

"Iz?" She said gently. "What's going on?" Isabelle sighed into her hand, an attempt to hide her sadness.

"My mom and dad are going to visit Max this weekend." She said, slumping against the countertop. "To tell him that they're finishing; Alec and Jace offered to go but they want to do it alone. I just need… one weekend…. One last weekend where I don't have to think about my brother's broken heart. About mine." She choked, and Clary immediately let her fall into her arms, calming the sobs.

"Oh, Izzy. I'm so sorry." She whispered. They stayed that way, letting the minutes pass silently.

"Of course I'll come to the party." She said eventually, and Isabelle looked up with blurry eyes.

"You will?" She said, sniffing, and Clary nodded as she pushed a piece of hair from her face.

"Yeah; you know me, party animal." She said with a wry grin, and Isabelle smiled.

"Thank you, Clary. I just want to pretend like all of this isn't happening." She said, and they smiled gently at each other as Isabelle cleaned her face in the mirror. "I'm so glad you moved here." She said as they left the bathroom and the bell rang. Clary smiled.

So was she.

…

That evening Clary wandered the grocery store alone; it was late, and Luke had dropped her off to grab a medicine for her mother while he locked up the shop, and Clary enjoyed the surreal serenity of the fluorescent lights, the eerie calm of late night shopping. There was practically no one around, and Clary leant on the handlebar of the cart as she wheeled it around, throwing in the medicine from the pharmacy along with the other groceries. There was value-brand everything, but Clary had taken it upon herself to buy her mom's favourite chocolates; they were spending the night together as Luke was waiting on a delivery, and it would be the last time they would be alone, as Clary was staying the whole weekend at Isabelle's after the party.

She decided that, finally, it was time to head to the registers, and she texted Luke to let him know that she would be out in a minute, then emptied her cart onto a conveyor belt. The elderly lady at the cashier wore a friendly smile, and it was only as Clary finished paying and was getting ready to leave with her bags that she saw her.

Kaelie was standing in her way, a manicured hand on her cocked hip. This was sure to be good.

"Kaelie." She said, shuffling the bags on her arm and trying not to seem shaken. "Good to see you." She smirked, and Kaelie grimaced.

"Oh, just shut the fuck up, you uptight bitch. You have been a pain in my ass since we met, and thanks to you I've been suspended." She spat, amd Clary shrugged; suspended? That answered one question.

"It's not my fault you're a perv, Kaelie- next time keep the cameras in the lockers where they belong." Clary retorted, trying to move past her; she had seen Luke's truck sidle up outside and she wanted to get out of there.

"Don't talk like you're better than me." Kaelie hissed, still standing in her way; "Just know that once I get back to school, Seb and I are going to make you wish you had never been born; don't forget, I know your freaky little secret." She said, then slunk off to the cigarette kiosk before Clary could respond. She didn't want Kaelie to see how shaken she was, but she knew that Kaelie was probably just pissed at being suspended. Understandable, but a well-deserved punishment. She tried not to think about the photograph as she lugged the heavy bags out of the shop and was met with Luke's keen smile.

"Just a light shop." He said with a grin, and Clary bumped his shoulder as he loaded up the truck; they had been getting on far better since he started staying over, and when they had asked Clary if she was okay with him moving in, it hadn't been as hard to say yes as she thought it would be. "You okay, kid?" He asked, and Clary shrugged as she climbed into the beat-up truck.

"Just some girl from school giving me grief. It's fine; is everything okay at the shop?" She asked, and Luke nodded as he pulled away; they spent the journey talking idly, always skirting around serious topics- that's how their relationship went. And when they got home, Clary made sure that the first thing that she did was give her mother a kiss, the second was to call Izzy, and tell her about the warning that Kaelie had given her.

…

Clary had spent the night at Izzy's countless times, but this was the first time that she had seen 'Party Izzy'. She had come to Isabelle's house at around midday to help her set up, and already there was a feeling of dread within her. Alec and Magnus were helping, and Jace was nowhere to be seen.

"Do we really need all these cup?" Clary asked, pulling another hundred solo cups from a bag. Izzy looked at her scathingly.

"If we plan on forgetting out ailments then we are going to need more than a hundred easily." She said, and Maia laughed.

"When does it start?"

"I told everyone to get here after eight- that gives us plenty of time to hide the valuables." Izzy said, and looked up as Alec and Magnus walked into the large living room.

"We're heading out to meet Cam- we'll bring the booze back in about an hour." Magnus said, and Clary couldn't help but widen her eyes at is attire; he was in a completely magenta suit, sparkling from head to toe. She grinned at him, and he winked.

"Okay- is Camille not coming tonight? She asked, and Magnus shrugged.

"She said she was busy, but we aren't complaining- not when her family owns the club that is providing the free drinks." He replied, flicking his hand in a wave and leaving the room with Alec. Clary raised an eyebrow.

"Okay- exactly how many people are coming if you need a club to supply drink?" She asked, and Isabelle smiled sheepishly.

"Around… a hundred? Hundred and twenty at the most." She said, continuing to lay out cups, and Clary had to stop herself from gulping.

What had she gotten herself in for?

Leaving the room to look for Maia she tried not to let the thought of being in the middle of a hundred people get to her, the thought of the pounding music, dim lights, sweaty bodies….

…it was far worse.

Clary didn't know what the time was or where any of her friends were; she had left Maia and Jordan to find a bathroom, and now it seemed that everyone was absorbed into the throng of stumbling bodies. Isabelle's house was big, and Clary knew that there must be well over two hundred bodies as people were spilling out into the drive, hiding in the corners of the garden, red cups squashed into the pristine grass.

Clary decided that she had had enough; there was someone touching her as she walked, the loud music confusing her and the pink drink that Isabelle had mixed her churning away in her stomach. Everything was softer than it should be, blurry at the edges. Clary shook of the hand that was reaching out for her and ran down the stairs, avoiding the gyrating bodies and the girl throwing up in the kitchen sink. She made it to the back door and stumbled out, trying not to trip in the heels that Izzy had insisted she wear.

It was quieter out back, and Clary hoped that no one was making out in the bushes. Sitting down on the grass she undid her shoes, kicking them away from her and leaning back into the cool grass; the music was deafening, but outside it was quieter; she wanted to go home, be somewhere that she felt safe. Instead she was alone.

She heard the door open and looked up, raising her eyebrows at her unexpected guest.

"Clary?" Jace asked, amused by her position on the floor. She smiled at him. "Mind if I join you?" He asked, and Clary laughed.

"Please do- I've got the best seat in the house." She said gently, and he slumped down beside her, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, the dull spark dazzling in the dark night. He looked to her.

"What are you doing out here?" He asked and she shrugged.

"I don't think parties are for me."

"I'm starting to think that too." He replied, and she watched him curiously.

"Really? Getting drunk for free in a room filled with half dressed girls?" She laughed, and he liked the sound despite the cutting remark.

"I'm trying this new thing where I don't drown my sorrows." He said, and she grinned.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. A pretty girl gave me some advice, and I'm a sucker for a pretty girl." He said under his breath and Clary felt a blush rise up her neck.

"Smart girl." She replied idly, picking at the grass.

"I like to think so."

"Jace." She whispered.

"Clary." He replied, watching her carefully.

"Are you okay?" She asked, eyes imploring, and he shrugged.

"I think so… it was easier this time around." He said into the night and she reached out into the night, gripping his hand.

"I'm glad." She said, and he looked down at her hand with a tight expression on his face. She let go. "Sorry."

"So… Isabelle left you alone." He asked, and she huffed as she looked at the sky.

"Yeah, she had five vodka shots then wandered off to find Simon." She said. "As usual."

"Ah, well, that's Izzy. The only people that don't know Izzy and Simon are in love are-"

"Izzy and Simon." Clary replied, laughing. "They need to pull it together."

"Do you like him?" Jace asked quietly, and Clary smiled in confusion.

"Of course, he's great." She replied, and he looked at his hands.

"No, I mean… do you… I saw you kiss him."

Clary's eyes widened.

"What?" She asked, and he ran a hand dejectedly through his hair.

"In the hallway the other day- he gave you something… then you kissed him." He said, and Clary couldn't help but laugh. He frowned, a stony look on his face. "Yeah, I definitely feel like laughing." He muttered, and Clary lay on her back, shock and the pink drink making her laugh harder.

"Jace… you're meant to be cooler than this." She said, tears in her eyes as she looked up at the stars. "I like Simon a lot…" She said, turning to look into his burning eyes. "But only as a friend." She whispered. He watched her carefully, then a smirk crossed his face.

"Okay." He said, and she raised her eyebrows.

"That's it?" She asked, and he grinned.

"I believe you." He replied, and a warm feeling began to settle around her. She blushed, letting her fingers trail through the grass. "What was it?" He asked, and she looked up.

"What was what?"

"The gift… what did he give you?" He asked, and Clary blushed again.

"It was just a comic that I said I liked… we were at the comic store the other day…" She said carefully, and she could feel his eyes on her. Something bubbled up within her, urging her to speak. "It was one that my brother liked; he would be jealous of it." She laughed, and out of the corner of her eye she saw him smiling lightly. His cigarette was gone, and he was sat with his arms on his knees, watching her. She grinned.

"I think maybe you're a bit drunk." Jace laughed at her, and she nodded.

"I think so too." She replied, sitting up and facing him.

"The tables have turned, Cherry, and I think I quite like it." He chuckled, and that thump in her chest returned.

"Yeah, yeah… you get the moral high ground." She said, standing up and brushing off her jeans, teetering precariously on her heels. Jace stood quickly, towering well above her, gripping her elbows; Clary was standing in front of the door and the dim glow of the kitchen light made his eyes look like molten gold. She smiled lightly.

"Stupid shoes." She whispered, and he grinned.

"I like them…" He replied, moving his hand to brush a piece of hair behind her ear; she was reminded of that day, the first day… the first time… He leaned in.

"Jace…" She whispered, and for a moment she didn't care about doing the right thing, about protecting herself. She let her eyes flutter shut.

And, as if by some divine intervention, a drunk party goer stumbled from the door and shocked them apart, standing in front of Clary. The stranger laughed briefly, then proceeded to throw up on Clary's top. She yelled out in disgust.

Great.

….

Jace lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling and contemplating events that seemed so out of his control; the sound of the party was raging below him, and he almost wanted to thank Izzy for providing him with the opportunity to be with Clary alone for once. But he also wanted to shake her for letting things get out of hand.

The sound of the shower shut off, and Jace sat upright in bed; Clary was in his shower, and the thought was enough to get him riled up. But the fact that she was washing off some stranger's puke was hardly enticing. He watched her carefully as the door opened and Clary poked her head around the door, a cloud of steam billowing behind her. Her hair was hanging wet around her face, flame coloured tendrils curling at the end and her cheeks flushed from scrubbing, but she wasn't coming out.

"Could you pass me my bag?" She asked, and Jace quickly threw her the small overnight bag she had brought with her. Smiling, she disappeared behind the door again; not before Jace saw a flash of her bare arms.

He hadn't thought about it before, but she only ever wore long clothes. And from the marks he just saw, it was for a reason; there were a number of raised, puckered marks on her arms, like tiny, angry circles of taut skin. He cringed at the thought of what had made those marks, but his train of thought was interrupted as she emerged, fully clothed in a light sweater and yoga pants, drying her hair with a towel. She blushed at his stare and looked down.

"Thanks; that was the grossest thing I have ever experienced." She said, standing in front of him, and he just smiled.

"Any time; it wouldn't be a party without someone throwing up." He grinned, and she rolled her eyes.

"I think I prefer small parties." She said.

"I like big parties; they're so much more intimate." He said with a wicked smile, gesturing between them and to his surprise she let out a laugh, her grin the best thing he had seen all night.

"Did you just quote classic lit at me?" She asked, moving to hang the towel on the end of his bed, and he shrugged. She laughed again. "I really don't know you… first you get jealous of Simon-"

"I wasn't jealous of rat-boy-"

"- and now you're quoting Gatsby." She was still laughing, and Jace threw the pillows off of his bed at her; he knew that asking her about the marks would be the wrong thing, and if he could make her laugh instead then he would settle for that.

"Hey- I _can_ read, you know." He laughed as she sat down on the bed beside him, leaning against the headboard.

"I have no doubt, it's just…" She looked at her hands. "You seem different already… to how you were when we first met." She said. "I thought you were such a dick." She grinned, blushing, and he just chuckled.

"I was a dick to you; I was to everyone."

"And you aren't anymore?" She asked, and he raised an eyebrow. "You're nice to me, is all I mean."

"Obviously. I like you; you don't get on my nerves as much as everyone else." She was still looking at her hands. "And I have something to make up to you; you're right, I treated you like shit. You didn't deserve it." He felt hot shame curl around him.

"No… you were having a hard time… I already said I forgive you." She said quietly, but Jace just shook his head in return, running a hand through his hair.

"You've been through more than I ever have in the space of a month, and you still manage to be nice to everyone. I was angry at the world before you turned up, thinking I had it so bad. But you've seen hell and made it out the other side; its time I get over myself." He said, and Clary tentatively placed a hand over his.

"Some things you never get over." She said, and a hot lump formed in Jace's throat.

"Yeah." He choked out, and Clary let go of him, lying back on his bed, her feet by his headboard, wet hair handing off the edge. He watched her curiously, the shine on her green eyes familiar.

"Can I ask you something?" She said into the room.

"What?"

"What were your parents like?" She whispered, and for a brief second he couldn't breathe. No one had talked to him about them in… years. "You don't have to answer, its just… it might help."

"They were… parents. You know? My mom was a pianist at a school; she's the one that taught me to play. And dad…" That was where he had to stop. "They were parents. I miss them."

"You never get used to it, do you." Clary whispered, and Jace nodded. "I'm so tired… but I think Isabelle might be in her room with Simon…" She trailed off, obviously trying to move the subject on. Jace shook himself.

"You can crash in here." He said, crossing the room to open the window and let some air in, grabbing a spare blanket from his cupboard. Clary had sat back up.

"Jace… I don't think so." She said, and he rolled his eyes.

"I promise to keep my hands to myself…" He said with a crooked smile, saluting with two fingers. "Scouts honour."

She snorted, rolling her eyes in return and reaching out for the blanket.

"Fine; but if you snore I will kick you out of your own room." She muttered, climbing under the blankets, clearly too tired to argue.

Jace clenched his fists and left to change in the bathroom, coming back in and switching off the lights. The party was still raging beneath them, but for them it seemed as though the night was quiet. He climbed in beside her, keeping a respectable distance between them.

"Jace." He heard her quiet voice.

"Yeah?"

"Can we be proper friends now… like, will you hang out with us? And not get drunk and hunt me down." She whispered tiredly, and Jace thanked god for whatever she had drank that night, because right now his heart was racing with dim hope.

"Yeah." He replied, grinning into the dark, and was still smiling as he drifted off.

…

It was like that night at the party, the cracks that had been growing unnoticed within Clary's life fixed themselves, and the weeks that followed made her feel as though she were dreaming, because life was… good?

The morning after the party Isabelle and Simon had officially announced that they were giving the 'couple thing' a go; Alec announced that he was moving in with Magnus, an announcement that was met with both happy and sad tears. Clary discovered that she was more liked than she had realised when Isabelle informed her that she had been invited to Raphael's after-game party, an invitation that she had declined happily, but had appreciated the thought. And Kaelie was nowhere to be found- she hardly came into school, and when she did she just slinked around with the red haired cheerleader that Clary learnt was called Seelie.

Her mother recovered beyond her former self; two weeks after the party Jocelyn began working again, but a week after _that_ she sold a piece of art that she had put on Etsy. She sold it for over a thousand dollars, and Clary hadn't seen the bright gleam in her mother's eyes for a long time. She began to paint more, once again filling their lives with vibrancy and passion.

And Jace had become her closest friend. In a way that she hadn't expected; Isabelle had become preoccupied with Simon (not that Clary minded, as she liked seeing Isabell happy despite the hardships she was facing with her parent's divorce), so Jace had taken it upon himself to pick her up for school. He had an immaculate collection of David Bowie CDs in his car, and Clary felt safe with him. He had met her mother properly about a month after the party, on a night when Isabelle, Simon, Jace and Maia had ended up at her apartment working on costumes for Izzy's textile's unit, and Jocelyn was instantly charmed by his politeness. She had told Clary she didn't like the fact that he smoked, but secretly Jocelyn just needed something to say other than 'he looks at you like you're the sun'. That might have been too intimidating.

He had taken her out four times, for dinner at a diner called Taki's. It was strictly platonic, he had assured her, but they still always shared coconut pancakes for dessert. He was still an angry person, still troubled. But he was getting better; she was getting better. For once she felt safe and happy, as though her troubles were finally over.

Two months after that night at the party, Clary once again found herself sat on Jace's bed, his immaculate room filled with the background noise of some dumb cop movie that Clary had put on to keep him distracted.

"Hold still!" She sighed, frustrated as she drew in his nose too long. Jace pursed his lips, trying not to grin. "Stop!" She laughed again, and this time he couldn't help but grin.

"Sorry, Cherry, but I just can't help myself. How long do life drawings take, anyway?" He asked, running a hand through his hair. Clary yelled, jumping from the bed and smacking at his hands, readjusting his hair to how it was and tilting his head back.

"I'm nearly done, you oaf- just stay still for one more minute." She said, and Jace pursed his lips again to stop the laugh.

"Did you just call me an oaf?" He asked, and she just hopped back on the bed and shot him a scathing look.

"One more minute." She said. As she continued sketching a knock sounded at the door, and Izzy walked in in her pyjamas, slumping down next to Clary.

"Wow… that's looking great, Clary. You are totally getting an A."

Clary blushed, and Jace had to refrain from turning to catch a look; her blush was one of his favourite things.

"So are you Izzy; those dresses are coming along amazingly."

Since their art teacher had realised that Isabelle was getting no better at drawing, she had come up with a creative solution; it was an art and _design_ module after all, and if there was one thing that Izzy could design, it was fashion.

"Oh, stop it you." She said, winking and leaning back on Jace's bed. "IS your mom ready for tonight?" She asked, and Clary nodded excitedly.

"Yep; Bat and Luke are helping he set up today; she said that she wanted to surprise me." She grinned.

"I guess that's why she stuck you here to get ready." Isabelle laughed, and Clary bit her lip.

"Thanks for helping me get ready Izzy; this is probably one of the biggest moments for her, and it means a lot." Clary said, and Isabelle clapped her hands.

"Are you joking! We wouldn't miss this for the world; I am all ready to get glammed up for a night at the gallery. We're gonna be like socialites tonight. Magnus bought coattails and everything."

"And I've got a dashing black tie ready to go." Jace said, holding his position.

Clary grinned, turning back to finish her portrait.

That evening her mother was being awarded a Newcomers Award at the local art gallery, a prize that not only came with a generous cash infusion, but an opportunity to have her work presented at the gallery. Her mother was on cloud nine and had insisted they invite everyone they know; not that it was many people, but it was enough.

"Done." She announced a moment later, and Jace made a show of clicking his neck and standing up, throwing himself back down on his bed with gusto and taking a look at the drawing; it never ceased to amaze him how good she was. It was an incredible talent.

"Okay; now that your homework is done you can come with me; Maia and Aline will be here in a minute and they are expecting a girl's night." Isabelle said, dragging Clary out of the door with her and bringing her to her room to get ready; Clary shot Jace an apologetic look over her shoulder, but he just grinned. Tonight was going to be good.

…

Clary watched the girl in the mirror, mesmerised. The girls were all dressed and ready; Maia had on a short gold dress, one that flared at the hips and accentuated her curving figure. She wore little make up, and her shoes were flat, but Clary admired her all the same. Aline had taken to dying her hair a warmer chestnut brown, and her dress was a warm red to match; Helen had arrived earlier, her blond hair swept in an elegant knot and lips painted red to match Aline's hair. She looked amazing in her 50's style dress, and the sight of the three girls laughing made her chest feel warm; these were her friends, the few people in the world that liked her for her.

And Isabelle looked stunning; she donned a deep blue dress (one very similar to the others that she owned) that reached her knees, tight to her body and making her look like a goddess, her sky-high heels adding to her stature. She was currently fixing Clary's hair back with a metal clasp, tendrils of scarlet drifting over her eyes. The dress she wore had been a gift from her mother; it was floor length, forest green and make of a fabric that simmered as she walked. Isabelle had given her some small heels, and the gauzy sleeves floated around her wrists as if there were a constant breeze.

"You look amazing." Helen breathed as Clary watched the girl in the mirror; she looked happy, content, her cheeks more filled than they had been in a long time and a glow in her skin that had nothing to do with the glitter that Izzy had brushed along her cheekbones.

"So do you." Clary replied sheepishly, brushing at one of her curls as they all picked up their bags, ready to leave.

"Magnus is downstairs." Isabelle announced, all of them exiting her room in a flurry of silk fabrics and magnolia perfume.

Clary took a deep breath as she descended the stairs, getting used to the extra height; she needn't have worried, as the second that she reached the bottom, Jace was there.

He looked almost disgustingly handsome; it wasn't fair. His golden features were offset by the stark black suit that he wore, the white shirt pristine white and crisply pressed. He wasn't smiling, his brown eyes just wide and watchful as she approached; he ran a hand through his hair, which was neatly combed for once, and he swallowed as she approached.

"You look amazing, Jace." She said to him carefully, watching the corner of his mouth tug upwards. He held out an arm to her.

"I would say the same about you, but the understatement would be criminal."

She blushed deeply and took his arm, ready to leave the house before the tension got too much; the rest of the group was standing by the front door, complimenting each other and getting ready to climb into the limo that Magnus had somehow commandeered from his friend Ragnor. Before they made their way out, though, Jace reached behind Clary's head; she felt a slight tug, and all of a sudden her hair came tumbling down around her shoulders, curls unruly and bright.

"Jace!" Came a voice from by the door, and both Clary and Jace looked to Isabelle who was standing with a hand on her hip. Then she cocked her head. "Hm. You're right; that does look better."

And with that she flung open the door, gesturing for everyone to exit the house. Clary was pulled along by Jace who kept her by his side as they entered the limo and sat with their legs touching during the ride.

When they arrived at the venue Clary was surprised to see the volume of people; hundreds had turned up to see her mother's work. She stared as everyone else exited the car and felt Jace's reassuring hand on hers.

"Ready?" He asked, and she smiled.

"Ready."

They exited the limo together, hands unknowingly intertwined as he led her to the door; inside was spectacular.

They walked through the main hall toward the gallery, following Isabelle's loud greeting to Simon (who had offered at the last minute to help Jocelyn set up) and ending up in a spacious ante chamber that was filled with high white walls.

The room was packed, and all of the walls were covered in her mother's paintings.

"These are amazing." Maia breathed as they took in the room; mostly there were landscapes, abstract paintings of red haired women with their arms crossed, green leaves and dark skies. Magnus was particularly taken with a sketch of the barista from the local coffee shop, much to Alec's chagrin, and the group spent the first half an hour milling through the gallery.

"Its funny." Clary said, standing by Jace as they looked at an oil painting of her apartment building as though from above.

"What is?" Jace asked, hands in his pockets.

"This; I've seen all of these before, but them being here. On the wall, for people to buy; it's amazing. Its like seeing them for the first time." Clary said, and Jace grinned.

"This will be you one day." He whispered, and she grinned.

"Clary!" A voice came from behind her, and Clary turned to hug her mother tightly.

"Mom!" She exclaimed. "These are amazing! The place looks so good, and its packed." Clary gushed, waving to Luke. Jocelyn smiled widely.

"I love you Clary; I hope you know that all the art I do is for you." She said sincerely. "And Jon." She whispered, and Clary reached out to hold her hand, Jocelyn shook off the tears, smiling again. "Now, look; I want you to see something. It's the piece that won me the prize; it's called 'Everything'." Jocelyn said, and Clary frowned.

"Which one is that?" She asked, and her mother bit her lip.

"You haven't seen it yet; I did it all in the bookshop. But it's for you, of course, and I hope you like it. And…" She finished, gripping both of Clary's hands. "I love you."

Patting Clary's hands gently she handed her off to Jace.

"It's just through that door there." Jocelyn said, and Clary smiled at her tentatively as she drifted off with Luke.

Linking her arms with Jace's again they made their way to the door that Jocelyn had gestured to; entering the room, Clary dropped Jace's arm and gasped.

Her mother hadn't painted Jonathon in eight years. Hid image had died along with him; in fact, they rarely ever mentioned him.

But there he was, with her. The image was a huge oil painting, two pairs of gleaming green eyes laughing through the painting. She was younger in the painting, more carefree. And he was there.

"Everything." She whispered, tears pooling in her eyes.

"It's beautiful." Jace said, slipping his hand in hers. She stood silently, staring up at the painting that was making her chest ache, her heart hurt. God she missed him.

Clary realised that Jace was right.

It _was_ beautiful. And standing there in the gallery, hands intertwined with his, her tears falling- but not in a hopeless way- as she stared up at her brother's face. Well; that was beautiful too.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** **This also may have a thousand mistakes, but I hope you enjoy! Get ready for the beginning of the end.**

 **Chapter 10**

It was a foreign feeling to Clary, being safe, but as she sat at home with her mother she was struck with the realisation that she _was_ safe, and happy. It was a Sunday night and they were sat together working, chatting about Jocelyn's new job as Luke and Bat set up the new TV in front of them; Bat had been visiting them a lot recently, and he had struck up an unlikely friendship with Luke.

"… and I have my own _studio_ in the centre Clary, that we can use whenever we like." Jocelyn said happily, writing down plans for her first day. Clary grinned.

"They're going to have to drag you away to teach that class." Clary laughed, and her mother smiled; the job was at a local Youth Centre and she would be teaching daily art classes to disadvantaged youths. It was an amazing opportunity, especially considering the fact that they had hired her due to her exhibition, not bothering to look into her past credentials.

Because if they had, it would raise more questions than necessary.

Clary went to bed early, waking up early in the morning to the light sound of her mother and Luke chatting; their routine had once again picked up, and not long after she woke up did her mom knock on her door and enter with a mug of coffee in her hand. Luke waved her goodbye, heading off to open the shop, and her mother set up to paint in the kitchen. The morning was going well, a feeling that Clary _was_ growing accustomed to.

It was only when she got to school did things turn sour.

"No way is Bowie anyway _near_ Led Zeppelin." Jace said with an indignant smirk, turning into the school. Clary scoffed, leaning her head against the window with a tired yawn. "Am I boring you?" He laughed, and Clary grinned.

"Yes, immensely. Stupid opinions tend to tire me out." She replied.

"Your obsession with Bowie is verging on unhealthy." He muttered.

"Hey!"

"Its true-"

They continued to squabble as they pulled up into the school, and Clary immediately spotted Isabelle huddled by the doors with the majority of their group, her face drawn and pale. Her arm was wrapped around Simon who looked equally panicked; the pair looked up as the car approached and made their way toward them, the others remaining by the door, whispering to each other. Simon hopped into the car in the backseat behind Clary, much to her confusion, and began to talk to Clary about their history assignment. Amused, Clary brought hers from her bag and compared it to his as he chattered aimlessly about the project. Jace had an incredulous look, but he could tell that there was something wrong by the look on Isabelle's face.

"Jace." Isabelle muttered to Jace through his open window, trying not to distract Clary. "Can I have a word…?"

Jace, slightly worried with her tone of voice, exited the car and stood beside it, lighting a cigarette and blocking Isabelle from Clary's view. He took a deep breath, then looked to his sister.

"What's up?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest, and Isabelle chewed on the edge of her nail; she rarely did that, but it was a reoccurring habit through the duration of their parent's divorce.

"Jace." She whispered. "Something really bad has happened; Magnus found it because he and Alec were in early, and they tried to fix it… but they weren't in in time and they were everywhere- some people were helping but…" She was rambling at a hundred miles per hour and Jace couldn't keep up. "… but I'm pretty sure they'll be on the internet now and everyone knows, I just-"

"Izzy!" Jace cut her off, dropping the cigarette and shaking her shoulders gently. "What the hell are you on about?" He asked, an Isabelle dropped her hand into her bag, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper.

"Kaelie put these up all over the school." She whispered, handing the paper to Jace. He took it gingerly, unfolding it.

He felt a hot flame of fury curl around him as he took in the image, and when his brain caught up with his adrenaline he handed back the paper in disgust.

"Shit- what the fuck, Izzy. I don't want to see that-" He stuttered, leaning back against the car; this was the last thing he expected to happen. It was Clary, topless, unaware of the photo being taken. Not only was he disgusted by the candid, but the scars along Clary's bare skin told a story that any moron could put together; he remembered the puckered scars on her arms, the way she hated his stamping out of cigarettes, the shell of the person she has been when they had met. He felt bile rise up in his throat. "Izzy." He muttered, and she nodded in agreement. "Did you know?" He asked. She sighed, rubbing her forehead.

"About what? I knew there were photos, but Clary didn't want us to see."

"No, about… those scars." He said, and Izzy swallowed.

"That doesn't matter, Jace. That's none of our business. What is our business is the fact that my best friend has had violating pictures of her posted around the school, and now everyone has seen them." She said, and Jace tried to focus.

"Are we gonna tell her?" He asked.

"Obviously; she's about to find out anyway." Izzy growled, and Jace sighed in frustration.

"I don't want this to set her back- I mean, she's been through some shit, and now this? Who the fuck does Kaelie think she is?"

"Jace." Izzy said. "Calm down."

Jace unclenched the fists that he didn't know had formed. "What now?" He asked, knowing that that whatever did happen couldn't be good. They were interrupted by the sound of Clary's voice.

"Come on then Simon, I have to see my art teacher before class-" Clary said, ignoring Simon's protests. He had been talking nonsense about history for a good five minutes, and although she didn't want to hurt his feelings, he was starting to weird her out.

"No! Wait, I have one more question about the civil war!" Simon said, stumbling from the car; he had been the distraction, so Izzy could let Jace in on the situation, but Clary was determined to leave.

"Well, we can find a teacher on our way- I really have to get this done!" She said, and Simon caught up to her quickly. Jace and Isabelle shared a look, following on behind, and Clary smiled at the group as they approached; Maia and Aline were talking quietly to each other, Magnus watching warily as they approached.

"Did they tell you?" Magnus asked as Clary came into earshot, and Clary slowed her pace, watching everyone curiously.

"Tell me what?" She asked, and Izzy rushed to catch up with her.

"Clary!" She exclaimed, but she wasn't listening.

"Tell me what, Magnus?"

"Look biscuit, Izza wanted to tell you- " He was cut off by Isabelle's glare. She hooked an arm through Clary's and dragged her out of the circle, their group still blocking the door to the school.

"Clary, please stay calm." Isabelle said carefully, and she felt her blood turn cold.

"Isabelle, I will freak out if you don't tell me what's going on." Clary said quietly, chewing on her lip; here it comes.

Isabelle handed Clary the picture that she had shown Jace; her friends were keeping a respectful distance, looking away. Clary unfolded the picture warily, immediately scrunching it into her palm when she saw the image, scrunching her eyes to, and dropping it to the floor. She felt sick; but also, a sick sense of relief. She had known this was coming.

"How did you get this?" She asked, and Isabelle pushed her hair behind her ear.

"They were put up around school- look, I think we got most of the, but people still saw. I'm really sorry Clary."

She bit her lip and Clary sighed, reaching out to hug Isabelle; her friend was shocked, and slightly wary.

"Don't be sorry- it was Kaelie, wasn't it? That day I saw her at the store she said she was gonna get me back- as if being blackmailed wasn't enough." Clary laughed weakly into Isabelle's hair, and Isabelle pushed her back.

"Who are you, and what have you done to my overly analytical friend?" Isabelle asked. Clary shrugged her bag up her shoulder, letting Izzy link their arms.

"My life is finally going well- and even though this does suck, the only people I care about are you guys. And you're the ones that took the photo down; as long as no one asks about it, I'm good."

They walked toward the group, Jace already gone, and Isabelle held onto Clary as they made their way into school; people were staring. And it was uncomfortable, but Clary occupied herself with discussing the pros and cons of Baz Luhrman with Simon whilst Isabelle shot death stares at the student body. That was how it went for most of the day, and Clary tried to hold in her nausea at the situation. The things that she hated most about herself, on display for everyone to see.

Jace was nowhere to be seen.

Isabelle persuaded Clary to stay over at hers that night under the guise of finishing their English coursework- in reality she wanted desperately to know what had happened to Clary. But it wasn't until the fatigue and haze of sleep was settling over them did she ask.

Clary was glad of the chance to be away from her mother, because if she found out what had happened it would have set both of them back. The one thing her mother never wanted to acknowledge was the physical pain that Clary had endured. And the permanent reminders that she was left with.

"Clary." Isabelle whispered into the dark. Clary blinked; she knew that this had been coming.

"Yeah?"

"I… I wanted to know- or to ask-"

"About the scars." Clary finished for her, and Isabelle shuffled closer to her in the Queen sized bed. She tried to make out the shape of Clary, but it was too dark.

"Yeah. The scars; I told the others not to ask, and I threatened as many people as I could. But I just…" She began to well up. "What happened?"

Clary felt out for her and linked their hands- this is the one thing that she swore she would never discuss. The sort of thing that could slide from the tip of her tongue so easily, but never be taken back. It was too much to think about. But sometimes she did want to let it slip, let it be a reality to someone other than herself.

"It was a long time ago, Iz. They don't hurt." She said quietly, and Isabelle sniffed.

"But they hurt once?" She asked. Clary stiffened.

"Yeah. They did."

"I don't get it…" Isabelle sucked in a hot breath. "What are they?"

Clary couldn't find the words, the reason. She took the hand that she was holding and, for the first time, let someone other than herself feel the scars along her arms. She ran Izzy's hand alond her forearm, and Izzy held her breath.

"What…?"

"Cigarette burns." Clary whispered. "My dad… he's the reason everything around me goes wrong. He's why we are the way we are. He wasn't a nice guy, I've said that before. But he was really messed up."

"The scar… on your back…" Izzy murmured, and Clary closed her eyes.

"One time I… we had this glass table. It wasn't pretty when I smashed it." Clary said, remembering the shattering glass and sharp wood. "It wasn't pretty at all."

"Oh God." Izzy said. "Clary… where is he now. He's the one that sent those photos, isn't he?" Isabelle bombarded, and Clary sighed.

"Yeah. I don't know where he is. But he's out there… We try not to think about it." Clary said, and Isabelle rolled onto her back.

"I can see why." She said, squeezing Clary's hand. "You don't have to be ashamed, Clary. You don't have to hide."

"I know. I'm just… not ready to be that person yet. I'm not brave enough." Clary said, and Isabelle felt her eyes droop with weariness.

"I think you are. You will be." Izzy trailed off, and Clary followed suit.

…

It was three in the morning when Clary realised she wouldn't be able to escape the dreams, and so she got out of Izzy's bed. Wandering through the hallways she wondered what it must be like to live in such a large house with so few people. It was only Izzy and Jace currently here- and no one had seen Jace all day. It must be lonely, and Clary felt her heart clench. She pulled the stolen blanket tighter around her and made her way to the kitchen, knowing that a glass of water would calm her nerves, but flicking on the light nearly gave her a heart attack.

"Jace!" She gasped, taking in his figure at the open kitchen window, taking up his usual stance with a cigarette and his sock clad feet propped against the open window. He turned and smirked at her, patting the chair beside him. She padded over and sat beside him, watching the smoke unfurl from his lips.

"Where have you been?" She asked, fearing the slur in his voice. He just shook his head.

"I needed time to think." He said, taking another drag; Clary rolled her eyes at his behaviour and took the cigarette from his lips, throwing it from the open window. He laughed at her.

"That's not an answer." She said, sweeping a piece of hair from her face. He watched her carefully. "Did you see the picture?" She asked, watching his fists clench. "Is that why you left?" She asked, feeling that same sick feeling build up within her.

"Fuck, Clary." He sighed. "Yeah- yeah, I had to leave because- God, that shit is disgusting, I mean…" Clary zoned out.

He thought she was disgusting. Out of all the things that had happened today, that punched a hole straight through her.

"I know," She whispered. "That's why I cover it up." She muttered, and Jace steadied his breathing, confused.

"What?" He asked, and she tucked her knees up to her chest.

"That's why I cover it up; I know I look like a freak. I know it's disgusting." She said again, and Jace's jaw dropped.

"That's not what I meant; Jesus, Cherry, I meant that what Kaelie did was disgusting, violating your privacy like that. That shit is unacceptable. You're…" He gulped. "You're the opposite of disgusting, okay, and I would never think that of you. Ever." He said, looking her straight in the eye. "I had to leave school because I needed a day to convince myself not to hit a girl."

Clary remained silent, still feeling hot shame swell around her.

"You don't think I'm a freak?" She asked, and Jace rolled his eyes; before she knew what he was doing he was pulling off his shirt, and Clary snapped her eyes shut, clapping a hand over her eyes for good measure.

"Jace!" She found herself exclaiming for the second time, and she heard him chuckle lowly.

"Get your damn mind out of the gutter, Fray, and take a look." Jace said, and Clary reluctantly opened her eyes. Jace was facing away from her, a hand on his neck. Clary gasped.

The first thing that she noticed was the thick black lines that ran across his back, his lower shoulders. A tattoo. Swirling in prominent lines across the arch of his back, the lines of his muscles; but beneath the tattoo were a collection of raised lines, paler and more puckered than the rest of his tanned flesh. She couldn't help but take in his muscles, but the scars were what bothered her. She reached out to touch them, running a finger along the black, curving lines. She felt him shiver, and he turned his body to look at her.

"I don't think you're a freak. You're the same as me." He muttered, running a hand through his hair. Clary looked back to the tattoo questioningly.

"How… what happened?" She asked, and he shrugged back on his shirt.

"I was in two foster homes before the Lightwood's adopted me. Not for long- just long enough for one carer to lose his temper a couple of times. Or all the time." He said nonchalantly, and Clary blanched. "I got the tattoo last year; I was sick of people staring in the showers, so I gave them something to stare at." He said, and Clary felt a small grin spread across her face. He laughed.

"What are you smiling about?" He asked, and she grinned wider.

"What's the opposite of disgusting, then?" She asked, feeling that there was too much heavy to pick up at that time, instead addressing his earlier comment. She could have sworn that he blushed.

"You know." He said, and she felt her face grow hot.

"You are too, you know." Clary said weakly, hoping that her voice didn't give away how overwhelmed she felt. He raised an eyebrow. "The opposite of disgusting."

He laughed at that, a sound that Clary liked, and he bumped her shoulder.

"You don't have to be scared. Or ashamed; everyone has scars." Jace said. "I bet everyone has their own shit at our school; there's a whole bunch of freaks in that place." He laughed without humour, and Clary looked to her hands.

"I don't have tattoos covering mine… they're always there. Always reminding me that-" She stopped. "That it happened. That I was small and weak for so long. They remind me that I'm broken."

"You aren't broken. I don't believe that for a second."

Clary buried her head in her hands, letting out a frustrated sigh.

"I am though… I can't do things everyone else can. I'm so afraid all the time, I attract bad luck. I wish I was normal." Clary whispered, and Jace slung an arm over her shoulder, hugging her. She smiled softly.

"Screw normal; when we first met you would have jumped out of your skin if I even tried to talk to you, and now you ride in my car and sleep in Izzy's bed, and sing badly in other people's showers." He said, and she laughed. "You're not the same person you've always been. And one day, you won't even remember being scared." He said. Clary leant her head against his warm chest, smiling. Maybe one day she could prove him right.

…..

The next few weeks Clary kept her head down; people whispered as she walked past, and she felt as though she had stirred up so much drama in the few months she had been here that it wasn't really surprising. It did help that most days she was never alone- when she was with Simon he would have her laughing too hard to care, and Isabelle shot glares at anyone within ten feet of them. Magnus was her favourite chaperone- his outfits had become so outrageous that when he was around, no one was talking about Clary.

"I don't see why I'm ever going to need Trig." Clary groaned, putting her head down on the lunch table. Jace laughed from next to her, and Simon put down his pen in exasperation.

"Let's just say, if you don't pass then you won't need any subjects. I don't think they ask for your grades at McDonalds."

Isabelle and Aline laughed at her despondent look, and Clary closed her book.

"You know, maybe I will just join the fast food conglomerate. At least I would get free fries." Her phone began to ring and Clary pushed her way up from the table, checking the caller.

"I'll be back in a minute- it's my mom." Clary said.

"Do you want me to come with?" Isabelle asked, and Clary shook her head.

"No, she's probably just telling me she'll be home late." Clary said and made her way out of the loud cafeteria to the slightly quieter courtyard.

"Hey mom, did you get my text about dinner?" Clary asked, but before her mother could reply a loud bang came down the phone, followed by a flurry of voices.

"Clary? Clary! Listen to me, don't come home." Clary's mom said, and the fear in her voice made her blood run cold.

"Mom?"

"No, listen. Don't come home- go to the shop, find Luke. I'll be okay." Her mother continued, and Clary felt her breath quicken.

"This isn't funny, Mom…"

"Just listen!" Something crashed to the ground in the background, and Clary felt tears well up in her eyes. "I love you. And whatever happens, I'm going to keep you safe."

Another loud bang came through the phone.

And then nothing.

"Mom… Mom?" Clary felt the panic rise with her voice. Someone was at her apartment. Without thinking she dropped her phone, not caring as it fell to the floor, and broke into a run. It seemed fitting that as she hit the streets the sky opened up, rain falling steadily as she ran toward home. The one thing her mother had _told_ her not to do was the one thing that she _needed_ to do- go home.

The cold drops soaked into her skin, into her bones, and Clary's breath came erratically as she pounded down the sidewalk, cutting through every alley she knew. But the second she arrived on her street, she knew she was too late.

The front door to the apartment building was hanging off a hinge, and the signs of a struggle was clear as Clary entered the building; the wallpaper had been ripped, as though someone had tried to grab a hold, and the ugly cheese plant that her mother and her always laughed at was upturned, the pot smashed.

"Mom!" Clary screamed as she ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Her neighbour Dorathea's door was open, and her own door was smashed in. Clary's heart sank. Running into Dorathea's apartment she saw her neighbour lying on the floor, unconscious. Clary rushed to her side and took her pulse; after she had made sure she was still breathing she got to her feet again, running next door.

"Mom?" She whispered, entering the apartment; almost everything was upturned, thrown from where it should be. The television sat smashed on the floor, and all around her there was broken glass. She walked cautiously through the rooms; both her and her mother's rooms were open, but the bathroom door was smashed in from the outside, swung open lopsidedly. Clary fell to her knees, shaking.

...

"Where the hell is she?" Isabelle said; Clary had been gone for over ten minutes and the bell for class was about to go. She checked her watch. "You know what, I'm gonna go get her. If we're late for Hawethorne's class we'll be stuck with the sucky desks at the front." Isabelle said, getting to her feet. Jace looked up from his book; she had been gone for a while. He got to his feet too, picking up both his and Clary's bags before falling into step with Isabelle.

"I'll come too- I'm heading that way anyway."

"Where did she go?" Izzy asked, checking her phone, and Jace shrugged.

"I don't know… she usually just sits in the courtyard behind the main block when she's alone." He replied.

"Okay, we'll check there- if she doesn't show up soon though I'm just going to have to head to class."

They walked toward the courtyard, and Isabelle looked around, huffing.

"Okay, she's not here, and it's raining. I'm heading out." Isabelle said, but Jace stopped her.

"Wait- isn't that her phone?" Jace said, picking up the device that sat alone in the wet courtyard the screen crack. Jace flipped I over, turning it on. "It's broken." He said quietly. He looked up. "This is hers, isn't it?"

Isabelle looked pale and nodded.

"Where is she?" She asked, looking around, and Jace looked around.

"Something… something must have happened." Jace said; he looked up at Izzy. "I've got a bad feeling."

"Me too." Isabelle said.

"Ditch?"

"I'll drive."

It took then less than five minutes to navigate the daytime traffic to Clary's apartment, and Jace was out of his seat before Izzy had pulled the parking break.

"If she isn't in we'll go to Luke's store." Isabelle said, and stopped in her tracks.

"Jace- the door's gone." She said, looking into the apartment building. Jace looked to her, then broke into a run, jumping over the fallen plant and sprinting up the stairs.

"Clary!" Jace yelled, pounding up the same stairs that Clary had before him. Isabelle was behind him, phone in hand as she dialled the police. They passed Clary's neighbour's apartment and Jace quickened his pace when he saw Clary's open door. He stepped in, déjà vu hitting him as he took in the mess of Clary's apartment.

"Oh god." Isabelle said, her high heeled boots crackling over the broken glass. "Clary!" She shouted, but Jace was already moving through the rooms; he didn't need to go far. Clary was on her knees in the bathroom, holding onto a piece of fabric.

"Clary-" Jace said, crouching down beside her. The sound of Isabelle talking down the phone could be heard faintly, and Jace pushed the hair from Clary's face. There were no tears, just a blank stare. "What the hell happened?" He asked, and Clary looked up, her voice lifeless.

"He's back. And my mom-" She looked down at the fabric. "She's gone."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I can only say sorry for being gone so long. But this is far from over. Thank you to everyone who keeps supporting me- it keeps me going, and makes me determined to finsih everything that I have started. Please read, review, enjoy.**

* * *

 **Chapter 11**

Clary stared at her hands; at some point she had laid her palms on broken glass, the shards cutting into her skin and staining them red. Red. Constant red.

"Clary." Jace was still sat in front of her, and Clary wished for a moment that she had never met him. Or Izzy. She wished that she had never moved here, let things get so messy and involved. That she had never let them in. They had made her want to stay, they made her love them. And now her mother was gone.

"Clary, Izzy called the cops. They'll be here soon."

Clary looked up from her hands, watching his face; he was so unreal, his golden eyes bright and concerned, narrow and watchful, creased at the edges. He was watching her watch him.

"Don't bother. They won't come." She said, standing up, brushing off her hands and moving out of the bathroom. Her eyes scanned the hallway, then she moved to her own room, searching through the debris of her bed.

"What are you doing?" Jace asked, watching her. He didn't know what to do in this situation- this wasn't how real life worked. Clary was searching listlessly through paper and clothes before moving onto the next room, running her hand across her face. "Clary, please stop."

"Go away, Jace!" She shouted, pushing past him- she walked through the kitchen, searching through the mess; it had to be here. Jace was trailing behind, unsure of what to do, and Izzy was also wringing her hands. They stood together, watching her search.

And then the phone rang.

Both Jace and Isabelle jumped, but Clary immediately headed to where it was docked and picked up the phone, feeling an uncertain level of calm settle around her. Her fingers were shaking as she picked up the hand set, knowing that it was over. It was all over; ten years of running, five different states, so many schools that she couldn't count. The loss of her brother. She held the phone to ear, not breathing.

"Clarissa."

She let out a breath and clutched at her chest; hearing him speak was like diving into a time warp, as though she were listening to a recording. He sounded the same.

"Valentine." She whispered, and she could hear him breathing. He chuckled darkly.

"That's no way to greet your father… what has your mother been teaching you?" She could hear someone talking in the back, angrily rejecting his comments.

"Where are you? Where's mom… what have you done to her?" Clary asked, her fists clenching by her side; Jace and Isabelle were watching, unmoving, but Clary was focused on trying to hear her mother's voice.

"I want you to come with me, Clarissa. You and your mother- it's time to come home."

Clary's heart stopped. She was out of options; she knew that this day was going to come, and she knew that it wouldn't end well. Letting her eyes close, she thought about her mother's face- as long as they were together, it didn't matter. She couldn't lose her mother.

"Fine. Tell me where to go."

Her father listed off an address, and Clary hastily pulled a pad and a pen toward her, writing it down. She recognised the area code- he was close by, in one of the empty warehouses off the estate. She tore the page and jammed it in her pocket, the jagged beat of her heart ripping through her.

"And, Clarissa. Come alone. Come alone, or your mother dies. Do you understand?"

"I understand. I… I'll be there."

"I can hardly wait."

The empty static that buzzed in her ear seemed to go on forever; he may have disconnected, but he felt so close to her. He was within touching distance.

Putting down the phone she turned to her friends, watching them watching her. She knew that this was crazy- the kind of thing that happened in films. But now it was her life.

"You guys need to leave." Clary whispered, looking at her hands.

"What the hell is going on?" Jace asked, and Isabelle just walked toward Clary, grabbing her hand gently, holding onto her.

"Was that him? Your dad?" Isabelle asked, and Clary nodded- tears that had yet to spill were pooling in her eyes, but she refused to cry. She refused to be weak now- this was the end of the line, and if she was going down then she was going to go down fighting.

"Yes. I… I need you both to leave. I need you to pretend you never saw this, okay? And then…" She tilted her head. "Then I need you to forget me. Because I have to leave now."

Isabelle began to tear up too, desperation and fear seeping through her skin.

"Clary…" She said, hot tears beginning to stream down her face. "Please, don't say stuff like this. I called the cops, they're on their way now… we just have to sit tight."

Clary shook her head vigorously, pulling at a strand of her hair.

"The police aren't coming." Clary said, and she looked to Jace- his expression was so hard, so drawn that he was almost a stranger to her. But the look in his eyes was more than familiar. "My father was… is… a powerful man. He's always had the police wrapped around his little finger- why do you think I'm always so afraid? He's not a normal man. He has connections in all the wrong places, and the one thing that he knows how to do is hide from the cops. No one's coming… they never do."

"This is bullshit," Jace said suddenly, moving forwards, looking her in the eye. "This is total bullshit- what the hell is going on?"

"Jace please."

"No. Don't. Don't pretend that this is normal, this isn't normal. We aren't leaving you- we are going to wait for the cops, then we are going to find your mom. We aren't leaving you."

"You have to."

"Clary…"

Clary put her head in her hands, coming up laughing; the siblings shared a look of panic, and Clary just sat down on the couch, laughing hysterically. Izzy and Jace sat down in front of her, trying to understand.

"You guys are right." Clary said, laughing. "This is crazy- so crazy. I just need to wait."

Both the siblings breathed a sigh of relief, Isabelle checking her phone for any news. Clary watched them closely and tried her hardest to keep a straight face.

"I love you guys." Clary said abruptly, and Isabelle raised an eyebrow softly. "I've… I've never had friends before. I'm really glad I met you both."

"We love you too, Clary. Of course we do- look, you sit tight, and I'll make some tea."

Isabelle stood up and made her way through the mess, preparing to do her usual mothering until the cops showed up, leaving Jace and Clary to talk.

"Where's my phone?" Clary asked Jace, who was watching her sombrely, and Jace stood up.

"It's in the car- I'll grab it. You know, we really freaked out when we saw it. You have to stop disappearing." He said quietly, and Clary nodded, a lump in her throat. She smiled.

"Thanks, Jace. I-" Her words got stuck in her throat, sharp as the glass embedded in her palms. He nodded, looking down.

"I know."

He exited the apartment, leaving the door open considering its state and rushing down the stairs, not wanting to leave her alone for longer than necessary.

And the second that he was gone Clary was on her feet- she ran to her mother's room, sliding quickly under the bed and reaching for a box she knew that her mother always kept, entering the code into the twist lock. She removed the item and then grabbed one of her mother's long coats, shoving it into her pocket and getting to her feet. She moved swiftly through her apartment and made her way for the door- Isabelle was on her own in the kitchen. Clary was out the door, heading for the back exit before the kettle had finished boiling.

The gun in her pocket was heavy, and as Clary made her way toward her father she thought it best to keep her finger on the trigger.

….

"We're here at Clary's house- no, I told you, Simon, we have no idea what the hell is going on. But her mom is gone and there's no sign of the cops yet. Yeah, Jace is here too… yes, we're safe. I love you too." Isabelle hung up the phone, a heavy sense of surrealism settling around her unpleasantly.

"Where's Clary?"

Isabelle jumped out of her skin at the sound of Jace's voice- he was standing behind her, clutching Clary's broken cell phone.

"On the couch…" Isabelle said, turning back to the kettle and pouring water into two mugs.

"She's not… Clary!" He turned and ran back through the rooms, slamming open the doors. She wasn't in her room, and the bathroom was a wreck, and her mother's room was empty; there was a box on the floor that hadn't been there earlier. Jace crouched down- the box was small, made of hard plastic, and had two clasps on the front. They were undone, and when Jace lifted the lid he felt his heart drop. He was on his feet in seconds, going back to the kitchen where Izzy was still standing in shock.

"Clary's gone." Jace said, running his hands through his hair; a year ago he didn't even know this girl, but in that moment he felt as though he had lost a part of him. Like he was walking around without one of his arms, not knowing when- or if- he would be whole again. He looked to Izzy desperately. "She's gone! Did you see where she went? When did she leave?"

Izzy opened and closed her mouth, shocked. Jace leant forward and shook her shoulders.

"Izzy!" He yelled.

"What the hell is going on here?"

They both turned to see Luke, Jocelyn's boyfriend, standing in the mess of his home. Apparently, he was back from work, and they could only imagine the scene that he was picturing.

"Luke…" Jace began, and Isabelle moved forward.

"Jocelyn and Clary are I danger, Luke. We don't know where they are…" She didn't even need to finish speaking before Luke had picked up his phone, dialling a number discreetly and holding it up to his ear.

"I need your help- are the camera's still set up? And the recording equipment? Okay, meet me at the apartment." He hung up and moved to the front door, shutting it as well as he could. Then he came back, gesturing to Jace and Isabelle to sit down. He stood at the kitchen counter, arms crossed. Jace liked Luke- he was always calm, always inviting. He told funny stories about his travels, made Jace welcome for dinner, he hung out with him while they waited for Clary and Jocelyn to get off work. But sitting there, in front of him, Jace felt a sick sense of fear wrap around him.

"What happened?" Luke asked, and Isabelle ran a hand through her hair, long nails tucking strands behind her hair as she explained what had happened- Clary disappearing, her disturbing revelations, the wreck of the apartment. Jace gave Luke Clary's cell phone, and he pocketed the small piece of technology.

"Where's Clary now?" Luke asked when she had finished, and Jace placed his head in his hands.

"She's gone… and she has a gun."

Izzy's head whipped around, her brown eyes wide and bright with shock.

"A _gun_! What the hell do you mean, she has a gun?"

"There was a case in the bedroom, it's empty now." Jace said, running his hands through his hair. "And I'm guessing she took it to wherever she was told to go."

"Jace… This isn't happening. This is not happening! What the hell is going on…"

"Both of you be quiet." Luke said as Jace gripped Izzy's hand, a cold sweat breaking out across his forehead. "I need you to shut up, just for a minute."

"We called the cops, Luke, but Clary said-" Isabelle started, ignoring the command for silence. Luke nodded.

"They won't come, I know. Jocelyn said the same. Whatever kind of guy he is-"

"He's dangerous." Jace finished, and Luke swallowed. Jace felt a hot wave of fear sweep through him, and he turned to the kitchen again. "No, no- you know what? Fuck this. I am not just gonna stand around…"

"Jace, please." Isabelle implored, reaching for him, but he shook her off, looking for something. He grabbed a pencil from the container that was always on Clary's kitchen table and took up the notepad that Clary had written on. He made a quick scribble, then looked up triumphantly.

"Got it." He said, holding up the paper that now showed the imprint of Clary's handwriting. Luke looked up from his phone, and Isabelle ran a hand over her face. "I know where this is."

"So do I." Said Luke, dialling his phone again. "That warehouse is set for demolition today, that's where they're building the new condos." Isabelle moaned, her eyes wet and her breath uneven.

"What does that mean?" She asked, looking between them. "Guys!"

"It means." Said Jace, pulling on his coat. "That in a few hours, the evidence of what is going on in that building is going to be dust." He slipped the paper into his pocket, and Izzy just kept staring at him. Jace ran a hand through his hair. "It means he can make them disappear if he wants! Or…"

"Don't say it."

"Or, it's the perfect place for a body."

….

Clary felt eerily calm. It was raining, just like the first day she moved to New York. Just like the first day she met Izzy. Like the first time she kissed Jace.

The piece of metal in her pocket felt lighter than she expected- like a lifeline. There was only one thing tying her to freedom, and it was the fact that she was no longer a weak little girl. She was the same age as John had been, all those years ago, when he had protected her from their father. And now she would protect her mother.

The lot that housed the warehouse was deserted; there were notices up, signs warning her that the site was now private property, under development. She didn't care; all she cared about was the lone building that stood amongst the rubble of what once must have been a depo, or other warehouses, or offices. The lone building that housed her biggest fear.

There was a small, metal door on the side of it, and as she grasped the handle, she took a deep breath, looked at the clouds. If this was her last moment of freedom, she was going to savour it. And then she entered the building and was plunged into darkness.

There were dim lights hanging from the highest beams, and the eerie shadows that bounced off the containers made her feel watched. And then she realised, she probably was being watched.

"Valentine." She called, the warble in her voice giving away her fear. She should have been paralysed, but instead she forced herself to keep moving. Her mother was here somewhere.

"Where are you?" She called out again, and this time she heard something shuffle in response. She turned swiftly, but was met with just a shadow. She kept pushing through, knowing in her gut that he loved the theatricality, and it was likely he was at the very centre of the building.

She was right. As she emerged from behind a large, empty shelving unit, the scene unfolded. In the very centre of the warehouse, lit by the cheap fluorescent lights, was a man she never thought she would have to see again. On the ground beside him was her mother's limp body, and Clary let out a breath. Valentine turned to face her, and time stopped.

He was the same. Ten years had passed, and yet he had remained the same. His skin was pale, taut as though carved from stone, and ageless in its creases. His eyes were the darkest shade of brown, almost black in the lights, and the smile that crossed his face was unforgettable. There was no joy there- there had never been- and the way down at her made her blood run like fire through her veins.

"Clarissa." He said, the grin spreading. He held out his arms, sweeping as though to offer her a hug. Or to gesture to the scene. "Come to me." He said, and just the way he spoke made her shiver. He truly hadn't changed.

"Valentine." She said, and his eyes flashed. "Why are we here?" She asked shakily, and he laughed, cold and piercing.

"I've come to take you home."

His reply was gracious, calm, and Clary quickly realised that she was truly out of her depth. She had thought that her mother would be awake, her words encouragement to her. But now she was alone, and unsure of her plan. Her father had always had lackeys, so she knew that even if, by some miracle, she managed to get to her mother and try to escape, she wouldn't make it far. Instead of panicking, she stalled.

"I know that, I mean… why are we here, in this place? Why not just wait for me at the apartment. Why all the drama?"

She could feel her voice shaking, and for a moment she was worried he would approach her. The distance between them allowed her to remain calm. If he came any closer, she would lose it.

Valentine laughed again, and Clary realised how much she truly hated that sound.

"You aren't so obedient anymore, are you, my darling? There was a time when you dared not look at me, let alone question me."

"I'm not a child anymore." She spat, and he narrowed his eyes, looking her up and down in a way that made her feel ill.

"No. I suppose you aren't." He put his hands in the pockets of his suit, and Clary felt the atmosphere change. He was so composed, and that fact that she barely remembered him sober made her wonder what he was like. What he did for a living. That she had never been sure of.

"I'll tell you the truth, Clarissa. If you tell me something."

"What?" She asked, and he smiled at the speed of her answer.

"Where was Jonathon buried?" He asks, and Clary froze.

"Why do you need to know that?" She asked, and she saw something flash in his eyes.

"It's my right to claim the body of my son, even if he was a worthless-"

"He was not!"

"- a worthless little traitor." Valentine finished.

Clary felt anger swell within her, anger and grief and fear and pain, all rolled into one.

"He's buried in Tulane. That's where we were staying. Mom worked in a diner…"

"I know, Clarissa. I don't need details. I just wanted to see if you would lie to your father."

She narrowed her eyes and took a breath.

"Okay. Well, I've answered your questions. So, answer mine. Why are we here, and where are we going?"

Valentine looked down at Jocelyn, a hard expression on his face.

"I don't have much power here, little Clarissa. New York is a big place, lots of gangs, lots of police. I would have liked to have left her body somewhere public, for Lucian to see, but I can't risk that here."

Clary choked.

"Her body?" She exclaimed, and her father's head snapped toward her in a look of pure mania.

"Your mother won't be coming with us. I have no need for her anymore; I have you. And she needs to be punished." Clary felt the blood rise in her ears, but Valentine was still speaking.

"I tried to punish her, all those years ago. She never did as I asked, never did what I wanted. I had a business to run, and she betrayed me. She wouldn't allow Jonathon to join me, turned him against me. Turned you against me."

"Stop." Clary whispered, shaking, but he kept going.

"And so I tried to punish her; and then she left me, took my children, my dignity, and made a whore of herself here. With that man, that scum…"

"Don't."

"So she needs to be punished, I need to get rid of her and prove the filth, the traitorous, disgusting truth of what she really is. I need her to be just bones, I need her to be gone. I need her to be dead- and this was the perfect place to do it. It's already wired to be destroyed, and you and I will be long gone."

"Stop!" Clary screamed, and Valentine finally looked up. The gun in her hand was shaky, and she steadied herself with her other hand. She didn't know when she had raised it, or how long she'd been gripping it. But she was aiming at his head, right between his beetle eyes. He cackled.

"You think you could do it?"

"Shut up!" She screamed again, gesturing with the weapon, and Valentine's eyes gleamed. "I'll do it, I swear to god-"

"Yes. Do it. I want you to, Clarissa, my Clarissa Seraphina…"

"Stop calling me that! I'm not Clarissa anymore. I am _not_ your daughter."

"You're a part of me, daughter, no matter what you say. Shoot me, Clarissa. Prove to me you're worthy."

"I… I…"

He pulled out a gun of his own; bigger, shinier, black and menacing. He held it in one hand, clicked off the safety, and pointed it at Clary.

"Will you do it now?" He asked, calm where she was shaking. She just kept staring, pointing, and he laughed. He turned the gun to the ground, pointing it at her mother. "How about now?"

She sobbed at that, hot tears that she had held back finally falling, dripping down her face like blood and blurring her vision. Could she do it? Could she kill a man?

"Clarissa!" He shouted, and he fired a shot at the wall, the sound deafening. He just laughed at her flinch, pulling the gun back again. "I'm going to love this nearly as much as I loved getting rid of your brother."

And that's when she did it. She pulled the trigger, feeling the force of the explosion in her hand, hearing the shot, the slam. She heard it hit her mark.

All she could see was her brother's face.

Simultaneously the world around tore open, and light began to fill the warehouse, voices could be heard; they were no longer alone. But all Clary could see, could think about, was Jonathon.

He died in a car accident, didn't he? He was driving… her father couldn't have…

It was only when she heard the voices that she felt herself being dragged. She was on her back. When had she fallen? And she was being brought outside, the light of the grey sky burning her eyes, shaped dancing before her eyes. She couldn't think, she couldn't feel.

It was when her back hit a sharp edge of metal that some of her senses came back, and she felt all of the breath leave her lungs. She felt something burning, someone screaming.

And then the warehouse blew. If Clary had been any closer, she would have had no hair left, and the heat of the explosion surrounded her, engulfed her. She was still confused though, disorientated.

"Mom." She choked out, then coughed. Blood. It was everywhere, in her mouth, in her throat. She gagged as she tasted the acrid tang. The grey sky came into focus, and she realised that the shapes weren't shapes. It was Jace, his face looming above her, his body cradling hers. There was a ringing in her ears, and even though she could see his lips moving she couldn't hear him. That's when she felt his hand, pressing uncomfortably hard against her stomach.

She looked down, but all she could see was red.

She'd been shot.

She looked up to Jace, eyes wide, and she choked again. He was stroking her hair, and for the first time she saw the wetness in his eyes. Her whole body was on fire, she wanted to scream. But instead, she focused on Jace's lips, the way they were moving.

"Don't leave me. Don't leave me. Don't leave me."

Everything faded into red. Always red.

…

Jace had been sat at her bedside for five days. Isabelle too, sat beside him, too tired to move.

The only time they had left was to tell the police what had happened, what had caused all the violence. It had been a rough day, as Clary had not yet woken up, and her mother was a mess in her hospital bed.

But they had found a body, in the blaze. And considering both Clary and Jocelyn had been removed, it was clear that Valentine, finally, was gone. So, her mother had told them everything. And Jace and Isabelle had been asked to explain their role, to a police officer that seemed to only half believe them.

"We figured out where they would be- Clary had written down the address on a pad, and we went straight there. We just had to wait for Luke's friends to turn up."

"You mean Officer Branwell, I'm assuming." Isabelle sighed at the interruption but nodded.

"Yes, him and our friend Bat. He's the one that gave you the evidence, all the footage." Isabelle specified. "Anyway, once they arrived, we all left. Luke had told us to stay at the apartment but-"

"But we said we'd stay over my dead body." Jace insisted; he hadn't said much during the interview, all he could think of was Clary. And yet he knew that they had to, had to help clean up the mess her father had caused. At least he was dead.

"And so, what happened when you arrived at the scene?" The officer asked, scratching his bald head. Isabelle grimaced.

"We heard a gunshot. Two, actually. So… we just… we just ran in."

"And what did you see?"

"There was a man lying on the ground, he was facedown, I couldn't tell if he's been shot. But Jocelyn was there, and so was Clary. Jace just grabbed her and dragged her out- Luke and Henry had Jocelyn. We took them outside, got some distance between us and the warehouse."

"Clary was bleeding. She had been shot." Jace muttered, and the officer scribbled profusely.

"And then?"

"Then the place exploded, and the ambulances finally arrived. It was all a blur after that."

The officer had nodded, asked them a few more questions. But Jace was no longer listening, and Isabelle was tired of answering, so he let them leave and return to Clary's bedside. That had been three days ago.

Clary still wasn't awake.

Isabelle was sleeping softly beside Clary's bed, and Jace was just watching them both. They had been forced to leave every day, but neither of them got much rest at home (where their parents alternated between packing up their father's things, shouting at each other, or shouting at Isabelle and Jace for missing school) so they tended to just rest whenever they were with Clary.

It hadn't stopped raining since that day.

"Knock-knock."

Jace looked up, wiping his tired eyes, and was greeted by Alec and Magnus. They hadn't been to visit Clary yet- Magnus had been busy getting a restraining order against his father, and so their arms were laden with gifts.

Jace tried to smile. He tried not to grimace; the couple looked at him sadly, sitting across from Jace in the two plastic chairs on the other side of Clary's bed.

"How is she?" Magnus asked gently, placing a bunch of bright flowers that Jace didn't know the name of on the windowsill. Jace rubbed his face, trying to shake off the fog.

"The doctor said that she's stable for now, but she has to be ventilated still… she's not… breathing on her own. The surgery was bad, I think. Serious." They all looked to Clary, her skin unbelievable pale against her vivid hair, the white sheets making her seem like a ghost. The tube in her throat swelled rhythmically, and the monitor beeped steadily. The monitor was their only comfort- it meant that she was still alive. Isabelle stirred and moved sleepily, eyes immediately flicking to Clary. Then she looked at her brothers.

"Where's her mom?" Alec asked.

"She's still not been discharged; Valentine, Clary's dad, he drugged her. That's what the doctor's said, and it won't be out of her system until at least tomorrow. Luke's been alternating sleeping in here and in Jocelyn's room- that guy is dead on his feet." Isabelle said, and took a sip of water from a cup on the table. "What's new at school? How is everyone?"

They had pretty much isolated themselves at this point- no one wanted to be far from Clary for too long. In case something happened.

"Nothing much has happened, although…" Alec started, and Jace looked up. "People are asking about her- in a good way!" He finished when he saw the dark look cross his brother's face. "They're all worried- the art teacher came up to me yesterday, she knew me from this one time I handed in work for Clary. And Aline and Helen want to visit- so do these three freshmen. Did you know she helped at a Saturday art class helping the lowers? Because I didn't…"

Jace zoned out. He hadn't known that about Clary. He had loved having her to himself so much that he never realised, never thought, about how many people _knew_ her here. She talked all the time about how much happier she had been. And although he knew he must play a part, she was always riding with him, watching old movies in his room, forcing him to listen to David Bowie in the car, she actually had a life here. She had made a life.

And now it was all slipping away. He put his head in his hands and could feel everyone's eyes on him.

"People care about her, Jace." Izzy said gently "That's a good thing. It means she's loved."

Jace didn't reply but watched his siblings silently. He then pulled out a deck of cards and tossed them to Alec, and they passed the day as though it were more normal. Clary didn't wake up, but Jace swore that, whenever Izzy laughed, she smiled.

…..

"It's been seven days, Ms Morgenstern."

Jocelyn winced at the use of her real name- since the police investigation and her hospital stay people had been more frequently referring to her with her married name. It wasn't their fault- officially she had yet to change her name- but it was something that reminded her of how much she had lost.

"What do you recommend?" Jocelyn said quietly from Clary's bedside; she had finally been discharged and had forced Clary's friends to go home. Every day more of them showed up, and the pungent scent of botanicals and disinfectant was proof of the life her daughter had; there were flowers everywhere. The doctor sighed.

"Currently, we don't know why she hasn't woken up. Her brain patterns are normal, we've been able to take her off the vent. Her heart looks good, and her surgeries have been more than successful. Right now, all we can say is that… her body is resting. Trying to heal itself. She's been through a pretty traumatic experience, and I'm worried that maybe she's gone into a catatonic state."  
Jocelyn felt her blood run cold.

"What does that mean?" She asked carefully, and Luke gripped her hand from beside her.

"It means… it means that if she doesn't wake up soon, we may be looking at permanent neurological damage. She… she may not wake up. And if she does, she might not be the same as before. Trauma is something that medicine can't always explain."

Jocelyn let out a quiet sob, gripping her daughter's hand so tightly she could feel her own soft pulse beating with hers. Two hearts intertwined forever.

The doctor left silently, Luke thanking him, and when he was gone Jocelyn let out the choking sobs that were ripping through her. Luke held her close and let her cry into him, his own heart breaking.

"I can't lose her." She whispered. "I won't survive it. I've already lost one child…"

…..

 _Everything here is white. Clary looked around the room, trying to focus her eyes on something, anything. But it was like a blur, like the static you see behind your eyes when you blink too hard._

 _It was a hospital room, a bed, and she was stuck to the sheets. She tried to speak. She couldn't._

 _"Hey short stuff."_

 _Clary's heart stopped._

 _"Jonathon. "_

 _Her brother smiled at her from his chair next to the bed. He was so handsome, so much older than she remembered. Bright green eyes shone at her, and Clary couldn't help but think that, although he looked so similar to their father, he was the opposite of him. Gentle where Valentine was hard, sunny where their father was dark. He was love. Valentine was hate._

 _"Where are we?" Clary whispered, and although it felt like heaven, the pain in her chest and throat made her think otherwise._

 _"I don't know, sis. I woke up here too. It smells weird."_

 _She could fell tears prickling in her eyes, but she didn't want to waste her time crying._

 _"I saw Valentine." She whispered, and he nodded._

 _"I know."_

 _"He said… he said…" She choked. "He said he killed you."_

 _Jonathon nodded again, his eyes wide and searching._

 _"I know."_

 _"Did he? Did he kill you? I thought it was a car accident… it was… wasn't it?"_

 _"It was a car accident, Clary. A bad one. On a quiet road, in dry weather, with no witnesses. You know what happened. You always have."_

 _She chewed on her lip; she wanted to reach out, to touch him. To know that he was real. But he was right; she had always known the truth._

 _"He killed you." She whispered, and Jonathon just turned his head slightly. "But… why did you come here? To tell me that? That doesn't even matter anymore, it doesn't matter that he did it! You're still dead!" She tried to shout, anger bubbling up and making her face feel hot. Jonathon looked at her, a stern, big brother look that made her fall silent._

 _"You needed to know that. Because no matter how much you hated him, he was our dad. And you didn't want to kill him. But you pulled a trigger, and now he's gone. You need to be able to move on, and knowing that he was as bad as you remember is important."_

 _Clary sighed, trying to see where the door was. There was none._

 _"Will I ever see you again?" Clary asked, looking to her brother, and he grinned a wide smile._

 _"I hope so, little red. I really do."_

 _"When I die?" She asked, and he laughed loudly, a sound like bells._

 _"Maybe. Maybe before… But now, for now, I need you to wake up. Wake up…_

 _… but don't forget to stay safe. Not everything is how it seems."_

Clary gasped, her eyes flying open. She was alive. She was awake.

And she was in pain.

Groaning, she rolled her head to one side, seeing the sleeping face of her mother. She was wrapped up with Luke, and the room she was in was dark. She could still feel Jonathon with her, but she was no longer warm. She was scared.

"Clary?" Her mother's voice said timidly into the air, and Clary noticed the gleam of her eyes in the dark.

"Mom?" She tried to whisper, but instead air just came out, a breath where she wanted to scream. Her mother gasped.

"Clary! Oh my, doctor! I need a doctor! Luke, wake up. Clary…" Her mother leaned her face close into her daughter's, tears of relief, of grief, of endless fear spilling over onto her cheeks. Clary grimaced, the pain still harsh, but felt something warm spread through her. She smiled slightly, ignoring the ache of her whole body, and watched as people swarmed into the room.

"You're going to be okay… _we're_ going to be okay. It's all finally over."

Clary watched the sincerity in her mother's eyes. And then she sighed.

The warm feeling. It was relief.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: One last time, please enjoy…**

 _One Month Later_

"I'm fine."

"You don't need to power through, Clary. Just do what you're comfortable with."

"I can do this."

Clary held her breath, willing the burning in her legs and abdomen to stop. It was her second week of physical therapy, and she really had only been out of bed three days longer than that. She was determined to get herself back to some kind of normal; any kind of normal.

Deep breath.

She pushed with all the strength that she could muster, acutely aware of Isabelle's bated breath, and managed to take another step. Then another. Left, right, left, deep breath, comfort from her physical therapist, left, right. And then she reached the bar, and it was all worth it. Her entire body told her to give up, to drop to the ground. But she had made it.

"Well done." Isabelle whispered into her hair, letting Clary gasp as she regained her balance.

"I did it." She murmured, allowing the physical therapist who stood beside her to carefully lift and put down her arms, checking her range of motion. All she could think about was that she had finally done it.

"I have to say, Clary…" Dr Gray, the therapist who had been assigned to help her walk again said carefully. "You're making quite the miraculous recovery. An injury like this tends to really affect mobility, and you will definitely need the cane, but if you keep up these regular exercises, I don't see why you wouldn't be able to have full range of motion in a few months."

Isabelle clapped her hands, and Clary grinned, slumping in her wheelchair with a sense of accomplishment. Today she was going home, finally getting out of the hospital. And what awaited her on the outside was a life that she wasn't yet familiar with.

Her mother and Luke had moved in together just days after Clary had woken up; they were out of the dingy apartment, now living in the spacious two-story apartment above Luke's book-store. They had spent the past few weeks decorating it, with the help of all of Clary's friends, and she had been sent continual updates on her room decoration on her new phone, a gift from Magnus that she had been shocked to receive. She had told him it was too much, but he was having none of it. It turned out that moving in with Alec had turned him into an even more flamboyant character; call that happiness. She would be seeing the place for the first time that day.

Her private life was not the only thing that had changed; it turns out, when you have a shoot out in a public place, swiftly followed by the explosion of public property, you become a media frenzy. Clary had been moved to a private room, her friends and family requiring passes to enter the ward, because she was being constantly bombarded with requests for interviews, curious news outlets and women's charities wanting her to discuss what had happened. People at school had leaked stories about her, about the bullying, Kaelie's photograph stunt. If she had social media, now would be the time it would be blowing up.

The attention wasn't so bad though; her mother had received a large sum of compensation money from the police force where Clary and Jonathon grew up. It turned out that, upon Valentine's death, a number of people came forward to reveal his crimes and provide testimonies against the corrupt police officers that had buried Jocelyn's abuse during her marriage. Not only that, but the media interest meant that her art received very public attention. Three separate publishing houses had offered her book deals, and the first piece of art that Jocelyn had ever made in her new studio, an abstract interpretation of the sun rising over New York, had sold for forty- thousand dollars. She was no longer in the small time.

Clary thought about all these changes as Isabelle wheeled her back to the hospital room for the last time, both of them ready to be rid of the place.

"I can't wait to eat real food." Clary said as they arrived back at her room, and Isabelle grinned.

"Don't tell Jace that; when he found out you were going home today, he tried to bring a bag full of coconut pancakes from Taki's- they stopped him at the door because he was leaking syrup everywhere." She laughed, and Clary grinned, blushing. Isabell smiled lightly.

"You like him, don't you?" Clary blushed harder, looking at her hands. Isabelle smiled triumphantly. "I know you do; he likes you too, you know. Too much if you ask me."

Clary frowned.

"What does that mean?" She asked, and Isabelle took a seat on Clary's hospital bed, folding up clothes into Clary's bag.

"When you were asleep… and the first few days after you woke up, Jace… he was a mess. I mean we all were, but him. That was different. He barely ate, didn't sleep. He never went to school. It was only when you came back that he did. I don't know what would have happened… if…"

Clary sucked in a breath; she was suddenly back at the warehouse, lying in Jace's arms. She was bleeding, she could smell blood, smoke, fire…

"Hey!"

Clary flashed back into the present. Isabelle was kneeling in front of her, holding her hands. Clary was still panicking.

"Remember what the doctor said; deep breath, take in your surroundings… you're here, with me, in your hospital room. You're safe." Isabelle whispered, and Clary sucked in another deep breath. In, out. Left, right. Forward- backward. It seemed that, even though her father was gone, and her life could now begin, she couldn't quite escape what had happened. She was seeing a therapist too, the normal kind, who was helping her work through her trauma. Because apparently another physical scar wasn't enough; she had a plethora of mental ones too.

"I'm okay." Clary whispered, and Isabelle frowned guiltily; she needed to learn to ease Clary into tough topics.

"Okay," She said, sitting back up on the bed. "Since you're getting out today, I have _so_ much to fill you in on. So, get this, Seelie and Meliorn were together at lunch the other day…"

Clary smiled softly, listening to her friend chatter idly about school gossip, wondering what her life would be like now.

…..

"Are you excited?" Jocelyn asked her daughter from the front seat of Luke's truck, and Clary grinned. She had left the hospital with an emotional farewell to the nurses on her ward, who had fallen in love with both her and Jace, who regularly flirted his way into the ward after hours. And now they were speeding toward home. Home.

"Extremely." Clary said, biting her lip. Luke had one hand on the wheel, one holding Jocelyn's hand, and Clary couldn't help but notice the brightness in her mother. She smiled lightly as they pulled up in front of the book shop, and Clary gave herself a once over.

She was still bandaged up, another scar for her collection, and every step she took hurt like hell. But she was finally home.

Her mother and Luke helped her from the car, holding out the crutch and the cane that she would be using to work. Clary hadn't really registered how much time had passed, but as she stepped from the car and looked up into the cool December sky, she realised the person she was when she started the school year was gone. She closed her eyes, still looking up, and she felt a cool drop of snow hit touch her face.

"Are you ready?" Jocelyn asked, and Clary nodded. They made their way up the stairs, Luke behind them in case Clary fell down the stair, a likely event considering her hobbled walk. They laughed at her attempt to be independent, her lopsided walk. She laughed too. Making it to the top of the stairs she grinned, and her mother handed her a key.

"Yours." She said, pressing it into her daughter's fingers. "You do the honours."

Leaning on her crutch Clary took the key, unlocking the door for the first time.

"Welcome home!"

Clary nearly tripped, her mother gripping onto her as she was assaulted with the site of her friends, lined up under a 'Welcome Home' banner that was hung on the mantel, in their hands empty party poppers that they had just pulled, confetti filling the air. Clary grinned; Izzy, Simon, Aline, Helen, Jace, Magnus, Alec, and Maia were all there, all, except Jace, wearing garishly shiny party hats and grinning immensely.

"Oh my god…" She whispered. She tried not to cry. "Oh my god!"

She fell forward into the apartment and was immediately surrounded in a huddle of tentative hugs and kisses; Isabelle held back, smiling smugly, as did Jace who was perched on the arm of a sofa.

"Okay, okay, enough of this craziness!" Jocelyn said, stepping into the room, Luke following, eyeing up the mess warily. It turned out that everyone had fallen in love with her mother whilst helping set up the apartment, as they all quickly stepped away, sitting around in mismatched chairs. Clary let herself fall into the couch beside Isabelle, Jace beside her. She smiled up at him.

"Hi." She whispered, and he grinned, chipped incisor and all.

"Hi."

"Okay, enough goo-goo eyes, we have presents!" Magnus said, and Clary quickly turned back to look at her friends, blushing.

"Firstly, homework." Isabelle said, handing Clary a folder filled with work. She groaned in response, but Isabelle smiled.

"Don't worry, turns out all the teachers love me, so they've been nice- they've given you until after the new year, and to top it off the admin have given you a free pass- they don't expect you back until January. So technically, you're already off for Christmas." Isabelle bragged.

"My gift is way better." Simon said, reaching over from his seat next to Izzy and handing her a package. Clary grinned, ripping off the paper.

"I love them!" She exclaimed as she uncovered a pile of old comics, each one kind of old, but all the more loved for it.

"They're all first editions- I've had them forever and have read them like, a hundred times. You could use them more than I can anymore."

"Nerd." Jace coughed into his hand, Clary jabbing him with her elbow in return.

"Well, I think they're cool." Clary said firmly, looking for somewhere to put them.

"Ah, now time for mine and Izzy's present." Magnus said, standing up and holding out a hand. Isabelle helped Clary up, and the pair helped Clary down the hallway- they seemed to know the apartment she was living in better than she did.

"Okay." Magnus said. "This is your room." He gestured to the door in front of them; even that was decorated, painted a fresh green, an embellished wooden 'C' nailed to the door. Clary couldn't help but smile; she had never had a room like this before, one that was so clearly marked as hers. Without waiting any longer, she pushed open the door, and immediately gasped.

First, the bed, which was a double. Never in her life had she had a bed this big. It was covered in sheets of the same light green as her door, which also matched the plush carpet. Her old desk was gone, replaced with a heavy wooden one that held pots of pencils, paint brushes, an easel up against the wall. She had a real wardrobe, filled with clothes presumably supplied by Isabelle.

The walls were all a paler shade of green, and on three of the walls there were photographs, all framed; Clay put a hand to her mouth.

So many of them she never even knew existed; there were ones of her and Jonathon when she was a baby, her brother's smiling face beaming at the camera, and another of her tenth birthday, her gap tooth grin at the camera as Jonathon handed her a cupcake, an event backdropped by the small apartment they had lived in. There was one of her and her mother on the opening night of the gallery event, their matching hair and dresses bright against the backdrop of Clary and Jonathon's grinning faces. There was a photo and Clary and Amatis in the bookshop, taken without her knowing during a special event day, her dressed as Ginny Weasley, Luke's sister a regular witch.

There were also so many of her friends; dozens from the night of Homecoming, mostly with Clary grinning, others with her dancing, taken candidly. There was one of her and Isabelle, heads bent close together, both of them nearly asleep in the back of Alec's car.

There was one from Isabelle's party, taken before they had all gotten drunk; her, Aline, Maia, Helen, and Isabelle, arms wrapped around each other, smiling dreamily at whoever was behind the camera.

There was also one of her and Jace at Takis; she didn't remember anyone taking it, but they both had cream on their faces, both mid laugh, Jace attempting to push a forkful of pancake into her mouth.

Clary felt tears well up into her eyes.

"I love it…" She said, Isabelle gripping her arm and helping her walk, take in the room. Magnus clapped.

"I knew you would, sweetie, Izzy and I designed it all ourselves. Oh, and look—" He gestured to the final wall, the giant corkboard that filled it. "This is for all your sketches! You can pin up all the stuff you're working on, which will help next year when you need to plan your college portfolios—" He trailed off as Clary flung her arms around him, ignoring the pain in her abdomen.

"Thank you…" She whispered, and Magnus smiled lightly. "It's the best thing I've ever been given…." She said, and Magnus patted her back.

"You deserve it, darling." He replied gently, and then pulled away. "Now, come on- we have a party to get on with!"

….

Clary spent the next week settling into her new home; her mother was there with her every day, helping her with her with her exercises, making her tea as she slaved over homework, sitting and watching films with her. They hadn't spent this much time together in so long- it had been so long since her mother hadn't had to work every hour to scrape together pennies. Now, her work consisted of talking to the gallery curator and planning art.

"Clary…" Jocelyn said as they were sat, idly watching daytime television as Clary sketched.

"Yeah?"

"I want… I want to say sorry. I want to say sorry for everything, everything that I've done that landed us where we were. Maybe… when I was younger, maybe if I had left sooner, we would have been okay. We wouldn't have been running from him for so long."

Clary watched her other intently, not knowing where this was going.

"Want us to be okay, now. I want us to move forward. But I know that I have to accept responsibility first, to say how sorry I am—"

"Mom…" Clary cut off her mother, dropping her sketchbook and turning to face her. "You don't need to apologise. I never blamed you, not for anything. It was always him."

Jocelyn started to cry, wrapping her daughter in a hug, and Clary gripped her tightly.

"I never wanted this for you, Clary. You or Jon. You were so much more, even when you were little, so talented. I want you to be happy."

Clary held back her own tears, stroking her mother's hair gently.

"I am happy, here with you. Happier than I've ever been." Clary finished, and her mother sniffed.

"We're going to be okay now… it's just us."

"Yeah…" Clary replied. "It's just us."

"But I do need to tell you something, I mean. The truth. Well, that is, the whole truth."

Clary looked confused, and her mother smiled.

"I want to tell you about Luke and I, the whole story. It's longer than you think." Jocelyn said, and Clary smile, laughing.

So, her mother told her the whole story, about her childhood sweetheart, Luke, and how they were separated by time and circumstance. And Clary couldn't help but feel that her mother was telling her this for more than one reason.

…..

The next Friday, just over a week before Christmas, all her friends finally finished for the Christmas vacation, and suddenly Clary was thrust into the world of a Lightwood Christmas. Isabelle and Simon, perpetually joined at the hip, spent almost every day with her. She was finally walking with just the cane, not the crutch, and they helped her to decorate Luke's apartment. They strung handmade wreaths outside, stringing lights across every room, and spent their days scooping snow away from the book store's front. (Well, Simon did. Isabelle and Clary mainly watched.)

Jace had gone away for two weeks and wouldn't be back until the next day… he hadn't told her why. But she knew that she was missing him.

She sat outside in the snow with Isabelle, the girls sat on the doorstep, Simon shovelling snow with Luke. The pair were wrapped together under a blanket, sipping hot chocolate that her mother had made them.

"Are you excited for Christmas?" Isabelle asked Clary, and Clary could almost laugh at the mundanity of the question; two months ago they were discussing her psychopathic stalker. Now she was sat with the people she loved, out in the open, talking about _Christmas._

"You know, I kind of am. Jonathon _loved_ Christmas. It'll be nice to actually enjoy it for once." Clary said, and Isabelle smiled sadly. Clary watched her. "What about you… what will you all be doing for Christmas?" She asked, and Isabelle shrugged, taking a sip of her drink.

"Turns out that _Robert—"_ She said pointedly. "Has decided to have Christmas with Jia. Not that I don't like the woman, but I'm not getting involved in that." Isabelle said, and Clary nodded. "And, in true Maryse Lightwood fashion, my mom has decided to take a 'girls' trip' over the holidays. She it'll just be me, Max, Jace, and Alec. Maybe Magnus will come too." She said, and Clary frowned.

"That's not fair…" Clary said, and Isabelle shrugged.

"It's how my parents argue, they pick a side and then try and make us pick one too. I'm just kind of sad for Max, he loves Christmas, and he's still only a kid."

Clary sighed, taking a drink. Then she was struck with an idea.

"Come here!" She said, and Isabelle laughed in confusion.

"What?"

"Come here for Christmas! All of you; turns out Luke is actually a pretty good cook- oh…"

She stopped, realising her mistake, and shouted over to where Luke and Simon were digging at the snow.

"Hey, Luke!" She shouted, and he looked up briefly, his beard filled with snow. "Would it be okay if Izzy's family came over for Christmas?"

She was rewarded with a thumbs up, Luke being both cold and a man of few words, and Clary turned to Isabelle.

"See, all good! Please come, I would love it." She said, and Isabelle grinned, finally worn down.

"Okay! Okay, I will speak to the boys… but that sounds really nice." Isabelle said, and Clary squealed. Isabelle herself was trying to hold in her excitement; Clary had never been like this before. She was inviting Isabelle, and _squealing._ Who was she?

"Yes…" Clary said, linking her arm through Izzy's and beaming. "This will be the best; turns out, when he's not working with the noodles and canned tomatoes in our pantry, Luke's actually a really good cook- oh, and my mom will love it! She always used to talk about big family Christmas' she had as a kid, and I bet she'll bake…" She trailed off, then blushed. "What?" She asked Isabelle, who was staring at her. Izzy bit her lip.

"You seem so different." Isabelle said, smiling, and Clary looked at her hands. "In a good way; you seem so much… I don't even know… alive."

"I just… I'm not so scared anymore. It's like I finally have closure." She said, then frowned. "Don't get me wrong, I still wake up in the middle of the night screaming, and every time I think someone is following me, I think its him, and I can almost feel my heart skip a beat. But now I know that he's gone, and we're going to be okay, I can finallystart _living_."

Isabelle grinned.

"Thank god. Because you and I have a _whole_ lot of living to do. Now stop hogging the blanket, I'm freezing."

Clary laughed, and Simon looked over, wiping a gloved hand over his forehead.

"Are you two ladies going to help anytime soon?" He called, and Isabelle stuck her tongue out.

"Absolutely not, Lewis!"

He shook his head, grinning and pulling down his hat. They all looked over as a taxi pulled up on the street, and Clary exclaimed in excitement as Jace stepped out in all his golden glory. His hair was swept back, slightly damp from the snow, and he was dressed in his signature black jeans and boots, the slim snow jacket a new addition. Isabelle watched, surprised, and Simon was first to greet him.

"Jace!" He said, confused, and Jace grinned.

"Oh, Lewis. I have not missed you," he said jokingly before briefly patting him on the back. Simon rolled his eyes.

"Whatever, what are you doing back?"

"Yeah, what are you doing back?" Isabelle retorted. "I thought I was picking you up tomorrow, and why are you here, specifically."

Jace shook Luke's hand quickly before turning to Isabelle.

"Well, Izzy, as much as I love the excitement you greeted me with, I'm back early because I have some good news. As for being here, I was under the impression that my favourite sister would want to hear straight away… was I wrong?"

Isabelle scowled.

"No. I love to be the first to know." She grumbled, and Jace grinned.

"Exactly." He walked over, perching on the porch beside Clary; she tried not to blush.

"Hey, Cherry," He said quietly, and Clary looked up at him. "Miss me?" He asked, and she rolled her eyes. He grinned wider. "Knew it."

"Stop flirting and tell me the news!" Isabelle said, swatting at Jace, and Clary laughed as the two flapped at each other.

"Fine, fine!" He said, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, well you didn't know this, red, but I was away doing interviews for college…and yesterday I got an unconditional acceptance, free ride as long as I play on the football team that they want to revive."

Clary's heart plunged; she hadn't thought about Jace leaving for college. She knew he was smart, and rich, and charming when he needed to be. For all she knew he could be half way across he country in six months. She bit her lip.

"Don't keep us in suspense!" Isabelle said, jumping so much that Clary was vibrating too. "Tell us where you're going!"

"Well, ladies, you are looking at the newest future alumni for none other than, the very prestigious, NYU."

Clary let out a breath that she didn't know she had been holding; no way. Isabelle squealed loudly and jumped over Clary to tackle Jace in a hug; an action that was met with an "oof" from Jace, and Clary laughing loudly.

"Ye, yes, yes!" Isabelle exclaimed happily. She jumped back off him, getting up to tell Simon. "I'm so glad you're staying here…"

Jace rubbed the back of his neck, glancing sideways at Clary. Clary pulled the blanket around her, flinging some around Jace and scooting closer. He smiled in confusion.

"I'm really glad you're staying, too." Clary whispered, and she could have sworn that Jace blushed. She grinned. "I would have missed your CD collection too much."

Jace barked out a laugh, slipping a hand into hers. Her fingers were so cold, his so warm, and he thought in that moment of everything that had led him to her. Everything that had pulled them together; how could he ever leave, knowing what he would be leaving.

"I would miss you too much." He said to her, and this time she really did blush. He grinned. "I love that." He said, and she swatted at him.

"Stop." She said, putting her head in her hands, and Jace laughed again. "Stop laughing at me or I won't tell you _my_ good news."

Jace raised an eyebrow, and Clary peeked up at him.

"Good news? From Clary Fray? I don't think I know what that means."

"Do you want to come here for Christmas or not?" Clary asked, biting her lip, and Jace grinned, surprised.

"Izzy told you about the Maryse-Robert conundrum?" He said, and then ran a hand through his hair. "You know, I would _love_ to. Have you met Max?" He asked, and Clary shook her head. He smiled softly, and for once Clary could see something in his eyes, something so soft, so far from the façade he showed the world. "You'll love him, he's basically a tiny Simon, but a million times more bearable." He said, and Clary snorted. "He loves Christmas; it would have been a bit crap if it had just been us… I'm the only one who knows how to cook, and I'm convinced Isabelle would have poisoned us all."

As he said that, a ball of snow hit the side of his head, splattering Clary in wet slush, Jace looking at Isabelle indignantly.

"Isabelle Lightwood, you are dead." Jace said, bending down to scoop up a handful of snow and standing up, preparing to throw. Clary laughed as Simon comedically shielded Isabell with his body, falling to the ground dramatically when Jace's snowball hit him in the head. Jace rolled his eyes, helping him up, and Simon hugged Jace, winding him up more.

Clary watched her friends. Friends; people who had come together around her when she needed them most. It kept hitting her on waves; this was her life now.

It was only when she woke up in the middle of the night, terrified beyond belief, that she remembered the hell she had been through. That's what happened two days before Christmas; Clary awoke with a start, tears streaming down her face, heart beating wildly. She looked around her dark room, the shapes of her belongings casting shadows in the black night. She couldn't breathe.

She grabbed her phone, dialling wildly, and waited for him to pick up.

"Hello?" The voice came groggily, and Clary tried to catch her breath. "Clary?" Sharper now, and Clary gasped.

"Jace." She whispered, closing her eyes. "I… I… I had a dream. Please, I… I don't want to be alone."

"I'm coming now."

It took him less than twenty minutes to travel from his home to Clary's apartment; he let himself in with the key that the Lightwood siblings shared and made his way straight to Clary's room. He was still in his pyjamas, a random coat thrown over him; he pushed the door open gently, feeling a deep pain in his chest at what he saw.

Clary was sat upright, knees drawn to her chest, rocking gently, eyes closed. He could see the tear tracks on her cheeks in the brief moonlight, and he closed the door gently. She jumped slightly, looking up.

"Jace…" She whispered, and he kicked off his shoes, taking off his jacket and climbing in beside her. She immediately leant into him, letting his strong arms wrap around her, holding her steadily. He stroked her hair.

"What happened?" He asked gently, and Clary squeezed her eyes tight.

"I was back there… with him. I was all alone… my mom—" She cut off, and Jace squeezed her tighter. "She was gone… I was all alone…"

He let her cry into him for what felt like hours, rocking her gently. This wasn't the first time this happened; most nights in the hospital Clary would wake up, screaming, shaking, calling for her mother. Her therapist had helped her, and it wasn't every night. But it was still some nights.

After what felt like an age, Clary finally calmed down. She felt safe with Jace there, and he was humming gently, no specific tune, just letting her know he was there. She managed to catch her breath, then wiped her eyes.

"I'm sorry." She whispered forlornly, and Jace stilled. "I'm sorry I'm like this… you could be with anyone right now, you could've never met me, and then you would have to deal with… _this._ "

Jace shuffled them so that they were facing and looked at her; they were just shadows, the room too dark to see each other clearly, but they could feel each other.

"Don't say that." He said lowly. "Don't every think that. Don't imagine a world where I never knew you, because honestly, Cherry, that's a world I would never want to live in."

Clary sniffed.

"But you would be so much better off—" She started.

"I have bad dreams too, everyone does. But you know what mine are about now? What keeps me up at night?" He whispered, and Clary shook her head gently, wiping at her face. "They're about losing _you._ That day, the day that I almost lost you, I couldn't even think straight. I couldn't think straight until the day you woke up, because you are a part of me now, whether you like it or not."

Clary let out a small laugh, and Jace cupped her face with his hand.

"I never thought I would be able to heal, be whole again, after everything that happened to me. And then I met you. And it's like… it's like…" He wracked his brains, trying to put it into words. "You're Helen, I'm Paris… without the murder. We're Jane and Mr Rochester. Nick and Gatsby, Orpheus and Eurydice; we're those two white people from the Notebook!" He said, and Clary couldn't help but laugh.

"Ron and Hermione?" She offered, and he laughed too.

"Yeah, we're Ron and Hermione. I would go through whatever hell I had too, a thousand time over. As long as I end up knowing you," He finished, and Clary put her hand on his.

"You're definitely my Hermione." She whispered, and he rolled his eyes.

"You know it. Just… never think you're a burden. You're basically the best thing that's ever happened to me." He said, and Clary was glad it was dark, so that he couldn't see the look on her face. The thoughts running through her head.

"Better than coconut pancakes?" She asked, wiping at her face one last time. Jace nodded in the dark, pulling her close to him and pulling the blankets up over them.

"Better than coconut pancakes." He murmured into the dark; they both began to fall asleep, Clary gripping onto the front of his shirt, tethering herself to him. Jace let her strawberry scent surround him, thinking back to the day he had nearly lost her, the only words he could think of.

 _Don't leave me. Don't leave me. Don't leave me._

….

"Merry Christmas!"

Clary laughed wildly as everyone at the table clinked their glasses, everyone except Max drinking cheap champagne, Max himself drinking sparkling cider.

She looked around the table (a display table that Luke had carried from the book shop up to the apartment in order to make room for everyone) and felt happiness swell in her chest. The whole Lightwood clan, Magnus included, had come for Christmas, and Clary had awoken to Isabelle jumping on her bed (having slept over) thrusting a brand-new dress under her nose.

Simon was also there as, being Jewish, he said he hadn't had any other plans. And he was great with Max; Jace had been right, Max was a mini Simon, and for that reason she loved him. He had been shy when he first showed up with Jace, slightly nervous and clearly homesick for his family. But he had opened up the second that Jocelyn had offered him a pumpkin muffin (a tip off from Jace that they were his favourite) and Clary had shown him her collection of comics. Now he was happily chatting away to Simon, sipping away at his drink, firmly believing it was champagne.

They dispersed from the table after dinner, and Clary helped Luke clean up as the others set up one of Max's new boardgames. There was a comfortable silence between them, Clary scraping plates as Luke loaded up the dishwasher. Their flow only stopped when Luke stood up, coughing awkwardly, and looked to Clary.

"You okay, Luke?" She asked, and the man in front of her rubbed his beard anxiously.

"Look, Clary. I know you and your mom have been through a lot this year, and I would never want to do anything that would upset you…" Luke began, and Clary's widened her eyes- was he leaving.

He pulled out a ring. Clary gasped.

"Oh my god…" She whispered, looking around to make sure her mother didn't see. "Oh my god!"

Luke grinned nervously, and Clary reached out for the ring; it was beautiful, a gold band with three small green stones.

"Like I said, I would never do anything if it would bother you—"

She cut him off, wrapping her arms around his neck and laughing. Luke hugged her back, surprised, and Clary pulled back.

"Do I have your blessing then?" He asked, and Clary nodded enthusiastically, handing back the ring.

"Yes, yes, yes! Of course! She'll love it." Clary said, buzzing with excitement, and Luke grinned.

"Okay, well, don't say anything. You go out there, I'll be out in a minute."

Clary left the kitchen, practically skipping, and sat down beside Isabelle in the living room. Her friend was watching Alec, Jocelyn, Max, and Simon play a game at the coffee table, and Clary had to stop herself from jumping.

"You okay, short stuff?" Isabelle asked, and Clary grinned.

"Yep." She said, bouncing, and Isabelle swung her legs over the smaller girl, stopping her from jumping. Clary couldn't stop smiling.

"How much champagne did you have?"

"Oh hush, just wait."

"Joss—" They both looked over as Luke entered the room, gesturing to Clary's mom. "Can I have a word?" He said, and Jocelyn shot Clary a curious look.

"Take over for me?" She asked her daughter, and Clary swatted Isabelle's legs away, sitting down to play for Jocelyn, who left the room with Luke. Clary could barely concentrate, much to Simon's chagrin.

"Clary, no, you can't use a fire attack on your first roll, look—"

He was cut off by Jocelyn's sudden exclamation, and everyone in the room looked up, surprised. Clary clapped her hands.

"Of course, yes!"

They all shared curious glances, Max somewhat less interested, and watched as Jocelyn and Luke entered the room. Jocelyn held up her left hand, ring glinting in the light, and everyone grinned, Magnus whistling.

"We're getting married!" Jocelyn beamed, and everyone got up to hug her. The rest of the afternoon was spent with Isabelle and Magnus talking Jocelyn and Luke's ears off about weddings, Izzy fawning over the ring, and Simon looking slightly shell shocked at what his future inevitably held.

Clary herself snuck off to her room.

It had been so long since she had seen her mother this happy. Glancing around the room at all of the photos, the smiling faces that lined the walls, she thought of her brother. He would have loved this; all he ever wanted was for his mother to be happy, for them to be a family. She shut her eyes, thinking of his smiling face, immortalised in her memory. She opened her eyes at a knock on her door, spinning around to see Jace, hands in his jean pockets, leaning against the door.

"Am I interrupting?" he asked, and Clary grinned.

"I was having a very interesting conversation with myself." She said, and Jace laughed.

"I'm sure." He shut the door, walking toward her. "You look beautiful." He said quietly, and she blushed, crossing an arm over herself.

"Yeah?" She asked, and Jace nodded.

"Yeah."

"Izzy gave me the dress… I have to say, I am very jealous of that sweater." She gestured to the garish, Christmas coloured sweater that Jace donned. He rolled his eyes.

"I'll have you know that this was a gift from Max." He said, hands still in his pockets. Clary grinned.

"I'm sure Isabelle had a say in that too." Clary said, and Jace bit his lip.

"Yeah… she definitely did."

They both laughed, and Jace took one hand from his pocket, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Look…" he started. "I know, you said you couldn't trust me before—"

Clary tried to cut him off, protesting, but Jace just took her hand,

"No, no—you were right to. The way I was behaving… I wasn't thinking. But I am now, and I'm hoping…" He pulled his other hand from his pocket, a crumpled string of mistletoe in his hand. Clary looked up at him, and he held the piece above them. "I'm hoping I can be the person that you deserve. That deserves _you."_

Clary looked up at the fluttering piece of greenery, then at Jace. She knew exactly what she had to do. She looked up at his face, too handsome, a somewhat apprehensive look in his eyes, and let go of his hand, reaching up to caress his face.

And then she kissed him.

She let her eyes flutter shut, and she heard Jace drop the mistletoe, wrapping his arms around her as he leant into the kiss. It was like the first time, and the last, and it was perfect. She could feel him everywhere, and for a moment the world stopped; they were the only people in the entire city, just two people, two halves of a whole, finally together.

Clary pulled away, laughing, and Jace pressed another kiss to her lips. Clary glanced down, wrapping her arms around his neck. He was smiling drunkenly, and she stroked his cheek.

"Jace…" She whispered, and Jace rested his forehead against hers, leaning down.

"Yes?" He asked, and she broke into a grin.

"How long was that mistletoe in your pocket?" She asked, laughing, and he groaned.

"Shut up, Fray." He said, threading a hand into her hair. "Just kiss me."

….

THE END.

 **A/N:**

 **This is it! I want to say thank you so much to everyone that has followed it along. I know it isn't the most popular fic, but it had been years in the making and something that I have had so much fun writing- I've also had such a great time reading all of your feedback!**

 **I hope the ending was one everyone enjoyed; I definitely have ideas for a few oneshots of these characters ( possibly Luke and Jocelyn's wedding!), and who knows, maybe a sequel in the future!**

 **Please be sure to check out some of my other stories; if you liked the crime element of this then 'Searchlight' might interest you, and 'A Simple Life' is very angsty, with plenty of slow burn Clace. And if you want drama, 'Good Behaviour' is going to be full of high school dramatics.**

 **Again, thank you for all the support, this story is actually the first that I've managed to finish on here! Please leave a review, and let me know how you feel about this ending!**

 **Big love.**


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